Being There

“Daddy, can you be a chaperone for Monster Mash?! Please?!”

I’ve chaperoned for Nola’s dances at her middle school before. I basically walk around and say things like “Careful!” “Easy there!” “Guys, guys.” Maybe I’ll strike up a conversation with another chaperone, or help a kid inside with a bloody nose.

The best part of the chaperone experience is catching glimpses of Nola with her friends where she doesn’t see me see her, like I’m on assignment for National Geographic studying teens in the wild.

Actually the best best part is when she runs up to me and says, “Hi Daddy!” and she’s all bright eyes and smiles. That’s gold. But mostly I watch the kids and try to think what it was like back in my day. In the end my back hurts and I’m glad when it’s over.

“No, I can’t, Punkin,” I said. “We have people coming over. Remember?”

“Please? I need you!”

This is Nola’s last year in middle school. No one likes middle school and Nola is not an exception. The pandemic and puberty have been a tough combo. And where I will often fall over myself to be there for my kids, I know it’s important to not be there as well.

“You don’t, sweetie. You’ll be fine.”

It’s technically a ‘dance’ but it’s more of a big hang out with music and food. Clusters of costumed kids running around screaming and laughing, TikTok-ing.

There’s also a costume contest. Last year Nola went as Spoiled Milk. She was Holly Golightly…