It was a busy afternoon at the place where my child goes. Many parents coming and going, much noise. I was waiting, just looking at some of the drawings pinned on a cork board near the main entrance. It was a long day already for me. My back felt a little achey from bending over earlier, and my head started to feel that familiar throb that meant I needed quiet soon.
Suddenly, a woman came to me. She had a very direct way, not even saying hello first. She just started talking. “Excuse me, I need help. Where are the sign-up sheets for the summer program? I was told they are ready today.”
I blinked at her. I was confused. I looked around, thinking maybe she was talking to someone behind me, but no, she was looking right at me. I felt a little rush of irritation. “Oh, I am sorry,” I told her. “I do not work here. I am just waiting for my child to finish for the day.”
She did not seem to hear me. Her eyes just stared at my face. “Yes, yes, I know. But I really need to get those forms. My friend said you have them now, ready for pick up. This is very important for my child’s schedule.”
I felt a knot in my stomach. Was she not understanding my words? I tried again, slower this time. “No, really. I am a parent. Like you. I do not work here. I cannot help you with summer program forms.” I even gestured to my casual bag on the floor next to me, like a parent would have, not an employee.
But it was like talking to a wall. She crossed her arms, a stubborn look on her face. “Look, I just need to know where the enrollment documents are. It is not so hard. I have been here many times, and everyone always helps. What is your name? Can you at least point me to the new art supplies for the toddler room? My child needs specific paint, and I cannot find it.”
My muscles began to tense. My headache, it pulsed stronger now. I could not believe this person. It was not just that she did not believe me, it was that she kept asking for things that only a worker would know. Art supplies? She wanted me to go find her paint? I swallowed down a sharp comment that wanted to escape. My voice felt a little tight. “Ma’am, I truly do not work here. There is an employee, I think, at the main desk. I can find someone for you.”
I started to turn, to walk over to the counter where one of the teachers often sat. But she stepped in front of me. Blocked my way. My breath hitched in my throat from the shock. “Oh no, you are not leaving me! I saw you standing here. You are clearly doing something. You are just being lazy, I can tell. This is unacceptable service! I need to see someone in charge about this, and you are going to help me find the director’s office right now. Or I will just report you for being unhelpful to parents!”
My hands balled into fists without me even realizing it. I felt heat rise to my neck. My temples throbbed hard. This was beyond belief. To be accused like this, when I was just trying to mind my own business. She actually thought she could get me in trouble, get me fired from a job I did not even have! My vision seemed to narrow, all I could see was her insistent face.
“You need to stop this,” I said, my voice low, like a rumble. I tried to keep it calm, but it was hard. “I am not an employee here. I am picking up my daughter, Elara. She is in the Sunbeam room. I come here every single day. I pay my fees, just like you. I just want to collect my child and go home. I have my car keys in my hand right now. Do I look like I am on the clock?” I held up the car keys, jingling them a little.
She looked at the keys. Then her eyes flickered over to the backpack I had on the floor next to my feet, with a small, embroidered picture of a unicorn on it, clearly a child’s backpack. Her mouth opened a little, then closed. She looked from the backpack, to my keys, then back to my face. The anger seemed to drain from her face, replaced by a sort of blankness. Like the lights had just turned on, but she was still trying to figure out what she was seeing. The stubbornness in her posture slowly softened. She mumbled something, very quiet, like she was talking to herself, and then she just turned away from me, her shoulders slumping. She walked slowly towards the main desk, not looking back. I stood there, still breathing hard, watching her go.
