I am a Toad

What did you call your parents when you were a kid?

We called ours "the Toads". I'm not sure where that catchy name came from, but it somehow described them to a tee. They were un-cool. They were strict. They didn't have a clue. They were toads.

Well, last night was my initiation into toad-hood. ARG has a friend who was competing in the "Battle of the High School Bands" at Half Moon Bay HS. He really wanted to go, so he and a fencing buddy went. Alone. No parental units supervising. They met up with a bunch of other fencers (some of their parents were there) and had a great time.

At the prearranged time I pulled up outside the high school gym to pick them up. As I sat, like a dork, in my car waiting for them to come out, I reflected on how life changes quickly. Seems like a few minutes ago I was the one going to concerts.

When ten minutes went by and still no boys, I got out and went searching. Boy did I feel parental. I mean, I was tired. I wanted to go home. I peeked into the gym only to see hundreds of screaming high school kids rocking out to a live band on stage. It was all dark. There was no way to find ARG. I stood in the back, helpless.

Called Hubby. Called the other boy's cell. Both kids had turned their phones off. Convenient. Hubby suggested texting. Duh. I don't even know how to text. I have never needed to do it. I am so lame.

A few minutes later they came out happy, wishing they could stay longer, but knowing it was time to go.

I think the hardest thing about being a toad is that it is humbling. I'm not center stage anymore. Not by a long stretch. It's all about the kid. I'm just the support team. The stage crew, as it were.

I just hope I can be a modestly cool toad. I don't need to be one of those super funny, popular parents. But it would be really nice if my kid's friends liked and respected me. Just a little.