Do you know this person?
The parent who, instead of hiring a babysitter, hauls each and every one of her children to curriculum night at school, including the one who isn't even school age yet. Then, instead of providing her children with quiet, constructive activities such as a Dora the Explorer coloring book, lets them run amok among the classroom library, pulling out books willy-nilly, including the chapter books THAT THEY CAN'T EVEN READ YET!
Then, as if that's not bad enough, they have the audacity to show up late, so that they disrupt the whole classroom of responsible, on time, well mannered, professionally dressed (meaning not wearing yoga pants) parents as they file through, like a mini Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Because Ellie refused to leave her blue Pancake House balloon at home.
Finally, the whole extended family will settle at the back of the class, and, you will take a deep breath, knowing that the worse is over. And then. You smell. Something. You will, surreptitiously, look around, wondering exactly which nicely appointed foot it could be coming from, then, notice the mother of the whole disruptive parade walking out of the classroom holding in one hand an old, worn out holey running shoe with, um, shoe butterflies? on the toes, only to quickly return in her stocking feet.
Finally, you will once again be able to focus on the teacher while noting the next topic of order on the agenda, only to be distracted, once again, as you hear from the back of the classroom someone stage whisper, quite exasperatedly, "You have got to be kidding me!" And the same mother of the disruptive parade will stalk out of the classroom again, the smell of dog tut-tut wafting behind her. Literally. Because, apparently, she sat in it too.
Then, you will think, "Good. Maybe she'll be in the restroom long enough for us to get some serious questions answered." But, unfortunately, the girls restroom where she fled in sanctuary will be in the same hallway, and, while it lacks a proper door, the traditional design of tile and porcelain does create AMAZING acoustics! And because of which, you will be able to hear each and every stage of emotional progression from frustrated sighs to quiet chuckles to a giggly spoken "Dude! It's like an olfactory whoopee cushion back here!"
And, because she has no shame, or, maybe, really, anywhere else to go, considering she's shoeless, she will come back into the classroom, and, try, to act like a responsible parent by taking notes about the Social Studies curriculum.
Then, after the whole family (and balloon) has finally paraded, once again, out of the classroom, book piles and meeting notes carelessly left behind them, you will notice that, on the volunteer sign up sheet for all the classroom activities for the year, she signed up once. To bring juice boxes. In February. Probably because napkins were already taken.
In my defense, I never once mentioned my imaginary snot statue dedicated to Sandy Hawkins. Not. Once.