Sunday, August 12, 2012

Omega Dog

I hate when I go to a party and people get going on the status points, their children's SAT scores or their latest European vacation.  I live in an area where it's improper to talk about the material advantages you have, but all bets are off when it comes to the ways you've planned your child's preschool education or the enrichment of travel.

Oh, I believe in the enrichment of travel, but I can't stand the 'we go every year' set.  I just want to roll my eyes and hock a loogie on their imported sandals.  I end up reminding Jack that we are not poor after those events.  Shoot, I have to convince myself that we're doing alright. 

Tonight, I got caught up in a conversation about a math program a dad had picked for his son.  It was just the look on his face and his silence when I said that this year was the first year we hadn't worked on those things during the summer.  I really felt it when he said that at least I should bring Jack to the library once a week. And he went on about how his son was in the advanced classes and he thought all the enrichment methods they used had really contributed.  And there was his wife's status job.  Oh, I'm not going to go into details.  No, you could guess what a status job is, couldn't you? 

I felt like a slug.  I'm the redneck mom from a state covered in corn who's son isn't in the advanced classes.  We didn't go to some exotic location this summer.  I haven't even forced my son to read this summer.  I don't think he's even read the back of his cereal box. 

I hate parties like that.  It all looks like fun on the surface, but underneath, there's a battle going on.  Who's the top dog?  They are!  Who's better than the rest?  They are!  Who's the omega dog, destined to be the last to the bone?  I am. 

Thank you for listening, jules

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