This morning I took the kids to school during a rainstorm. We were behind schedule, so we ran out of the house and raced for the van. L. carried a rolled-up poster presentation on cyber-bullying that she had spent hours meticulously laboring over. She stopped underneath the patio awning and refused to move, fearing that her poster would get wet once she was out in the rain. So I took the poster and carefully shoved it under my shirt. That shielded it sufficiently for the brief trip to the van.
As we drove, L. asked how she was going to get the poster inside her school without it getting wet. I glanced around the van and spotted two plastic Rowlett Public Library bags on the floor. At a stoplight, I grabbed them and threw them onto the back seat. "Use these," I said, pleased to have found a solution. And L. did so, sliding a bag over both ends of the rolled up poster.
When I pulled up at the end of the carpool line at L's school, she asked, "Dad, do I *have* to use these library bags?" Knowing how hard she had worked on the poster and how important it was to her, I told her yes, she did need to use the bags. And L. burst into tears. "But dad," she said. "I don't want to go to school with the library bags. Everyone will stare at me! They'll all think I'm stupid!"
I assured her that they wouldn't even notice. I said, "School starts in three minutes. Every kid is racing inside and heading to class. They're focused on not being late. They won't even see you, much less what you're carrying."
L. wailed, "Why do you want to embarrass me, dad? I don't want to go inside my school looking like a doofus!"
I explained that I had no desire to embarrass her and assured her that nobody would think she was stupid for covering her poster in plastic bags on a rainy day. L. disagreed. She especially objected to the use of "dumb" library bags, which she thought would bring her nothing but ridicule. I pointed out that I use Walmart bags to protect my papers and books every day on the way to and from work. And L. said, "Just because it wouldn't embarrass you doesn't mean it won't embarrass me!" Then the waterworks started again, and L. begged, "Please please please, daddy! Don't make me use these dumb library bags! It'll be so embarrassing! Everyone will think I'm stupid. I'll look like a doofus!"
In then end, I relented. I told her it was her homework project, so it was her choice whether or not to let it get rained on. She tore off the bags, leaped out of the van and, poster under one arm, raced through the rain and into the school.
My eight-year-old daughter is too embarrassed to use plastic bags to protect her homework from rain. What's next? L. ducking down as I pull up in front of her school because she's too embarrassed to be seen in our minivan? Or worse, too embarrassed to be seen with her father?
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