The Spoils of Embarrassment

Avoidance is impossible when it comes to that fateful day when a child starts believing his parents suffer from a coolness deficiency.

It wasn't so long ago when both of my sons enjoyed me walking them to class in the morning, and every day was a mini adventure. Sometimes they held my hand.

But then came the day my oldest son Curt, 11, didn't want Dad to walk him to class anymore. That led to him not wanting to be seen dropped off in the parking lot across from the school.

Today, they get dropped off in the circle drive in front of the school, with Curt reaching over upon arrival and turning down the stereo so no kid can hear what Dad has playing in the truck.

Never mind that it might be Nirvana, Motorhead, Led Zeppelin, The White Stripes, Black Sabbath, Soundgarden, The Ramones, Mumford & Sons, Bob Marley, Snoop Lion, Skrillex or Beastie Boys on the stereo.

Whatever it is, it's not exactly like my Dad driving me up to my elementary school with the Kingston Trio or Herp Albert at maximum volume.

Yet kids are kids, and embarrassment is embarrassment. It's in their DNA and part of the growth process.

But where there are a growing number of a maturing child's buttons to push, there are opportunities for clever means of dynamite parenting.

Like this morning.

Curt, as he is prone to do, left his class agenda in the car of my beautiful and incredible fiancee, Beth, who deserves a medal of honor for picking up the boys from school daily and serving as Minister of Homework Enforcement, resulting in substantial grade improvement. The agenda basically is a calendar that serves as one of several means of communication between students, teachers and parents.

An agenda reminder could be stapled to Curt's forehead, and he'd still find a way to forget this critical school component, which triggers a nastygram and sad-face drawing from the teacher should it not make it to class daily with a parental signature.

So when Curt failed to take the steps necessary to get that agenda to school today, the only logical thing to do was to deliver it to him in person on my way to work.

Humor columnist Dave Barry set the bar for campus embarrassment years ago when he drove up to his child's campus behind the wheel of the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile and used the vehicle's loudspeaker to call out to his 13-year-old son.

Here's the link: http://www.corgifan.com/oscar/barry.htm

With no Wienermobile immediately available, I had to settle for just convincing the Rice Elementary School office staffers that hand-delivering the agenda was preferable to just dropping it off with them.

I envisioned showing up at the classroom door, knocking just a tad louder than necessary and then being all smiles as I waved hello to the fifth-graders and happily handed over the agenda to a red-faced Curt.

But I never got the chance.

After scoring my hall pass from the front office, I ran into Curt in the courtyard between buildings. He apparently had been awarded the task of ferrying something from his class to some other part of the building.

He had all manner of key cards and whatnot hanging from his neck, giving him a look of importance and authority.

Despite his agenda forgetfulness, he at least was trustworthy enough in his teacher's eyes to be tasked with getting important information from Points A to B on campus.

"HEY DAD?!?!?!?!?!?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!?!?" he exclaimed as he spotted me from across the courtyard. He was with a buddy, and they were walking purposefully toward their objective.

I gave him a big smile and said, "HERE'S THE AGENDA YOU FORGOT!!!!"

Not as exciting as the envisioned classroom invasion, but it had to suffice. With the doors to the main building locked, I had to depend on him to use his card key to get me out of the courtyard. Once inside, he hurried away on his mission.

Somehow, I don't think what I did this morning will result in heightened agenda responsibility for Curt, so I might have to raise the game.

I'll never go as far as showing up on campus in a "23-foot-long, 3-ton hot dog, with wheels in the buns," as Dave Barry called it, but next time Curt forgets his agenda, showing up at his classroom door with Justin Bieber's "Baby" blaring from my iPhone might not be out of the question.