Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Curse you, Supermom!

I see this woman every week at my daughter's dance class. She says her name is Gwen, but I think it's an alias, like Clark Kent, or Peter Parker, or George Stroumboulopoulos. She is Supermom.

You probably know her, or someone like her. She's never harried or flustered. She's always on time. Her hair is always perfect. Her shoes always match. She keeps anything you might ever need in her designer tote, like a grown-up version of Dora's backpack.

Supermom, I mean Gwen, is an elementary school teacher. She speaks perfect French. Her children are always clean and well behaved. She wears tailored dress pants and stylish jackets, and none of her clothes have cookie crumbs or dog hairs on them. She volunteers with after school groups, and tutors kids on the weekends. She reads poetry in the waiting room.

And she's thoughtful. At Christmas, she brought treats for all the dance school teachers, complete with handmade name tags. She actually knew all the names. She delivered them in a red riding hood style basket.  

Sitting across the room in my jeans and hoodie, reading the latest Stephen King, it's easy to feel intimidated by Gwen. She's always one step ahead. I study her from behind my book, hoping to learn her secret. If only I had mind reading abilities, or some sort of superpower stealing laser. I want to know all her tricks.

Then our kids come skipping out of class, her perfectly coiffed ballerina and my hip hop girl with the messy ponytail. The hug I get is just as big as hers.

We exchange pleasantries on our way out. Her shiny, just waxed car is parked next to mine. She waves and says "See you next week!" I could really detest her, if only she wasn't so nice.

I bet this is how Lex Lutor feels.

5 comments:

Victoria said...

Ha ha ha! I think we ALL know someone like that... I have a friend from school who we call Superwoman... she already has an engineering degree (= smart and tough), she's in veterinary school (= smart and compassionate), she paints (=artistic), plays the fiddle, drums, flute and probably an assortment of other instruments (=musical and cultured), she's travelled the world, and on top of all this is just one of the kindest people I know. But the world needs both SuperPeople and ordinary people, right?

Leisl said...

Grown uP version of Dora's backpack- brilliant. Have one of them at my son's swimming class. It's the looking good that really kills me. I Once had the ability to do that!

momstertales said...

Victoria, you may be right. Maybe we mere mortal do need the SuperPeople around. They're great help at a kids birthday party. :)

Leisl, thanks. The good looking part gets me too. After three kids, the closest thing I get to dressed up on a "regular" day is sneakers with no holes in them.

Cathy Webster (Olliffe) said...

I think Gwen is secretly losing it and goes home at night and sobs into the pillow while the kids eat Oreos and Coca-Cola. Nobody can be that organized and perfect for long without going crackers.
This is what I tell myself, anyway. Hey, which Stephen King book?

momstertales said...

You paint a grim picture, Cathy. Maybe her house is a mess of dirty dishes and laundry...

Full Dark, No Stars is the last one I read. :)