Embrace Embarassment

EMBRACE EMBARRASSMENT

Laureen Leiko Scheid

First day of kindergarten. My beaming daughter ready for school ponytailed and backpacked crayolas and painter’s smock stainless reusable water bottle a radiant smile and all her baby teeth.

A ive-year countdown to this moment. Pride swells as my independent baby girl prances through the brightly adorned hallway of bulletin boards welcoming rainbows sunlowers and apples upper and lower case letters framed in a manuscript road. Smiles and I love yous. Bittersweet emotion. Snapshots and family selies wishing to stretch time.

Happiness gurgles to sour stew. Last night’s tortilla chips and abundant pico de gallo churn in my belly like a front load washer. There’s no escape, only unloading. My reprieve; a kindergarten restroom. Two tiny stalls with child-size commodes designed for mini people.

Violent Eruption! Heavy metal dire Rhea! My foul violation echoes through the unfortunately-acoustic school. Noxious breeze follows. Hand soap cannot wash this embarrassment. I muster the courage to exit.

A gracious grandma-volunteer greets children and other nervous parents. Her grin and twinkle say There’s no room to pretend. Deep mauve cheeks apologize to the luminous hallway its inhabitants but especially to my sweet girl.

Little arms encircle. Her embrace hugs away parental and gastrointestinal shame. We laugh for this is living. Unconditional love. Poetry material.

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PLUME

All art is a kind of confession.

JAMES BALDWIN

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