>> Friday, February 12, 2010
I have a daughter who is of preschool age.
My main motivation to get her out of diapers was to get her in school ASAP.
She get's rather bored home all day.
The public schools around me are...well....crappy.
Sorry there really is no other word to describe it.
I began looking around at private schools here in the area and quickly realized that I would have to take on a second job just to pay for part time!
It is ridiculous!
Mind you this is coming from someone who pays USC dental school tuition.
Finally I find a school that is both close and somewhat affordable.
AND it promised to have your child speaking both english and spanish as well as start teaching them a musical instrument!
And I knew that my daughter really really needed this.
I mean she was still eating playdough and picking her nose and speaking in third person.
She needed a lot of refinement.
I walk into the school with my daughter to meet with the head of admissions.
As soon as the woman turns the corner I am instantly struck with recognition.
I know her.
We proceed with the tour and I am in love.
It was unlike any preschool I had ever seen.
They groomed geniuses.
I am picturing my daughters graduation from Harvard and the nice home she will build for me behind her mansion with a private nurse and a pool man named Rico....
She needed this school.
As we end our tour the head of admissions asks me how my apartment complex is doing.
She then asks me if I remember her.
hmmmmm....for some reason I am feeling this isn't going to be good.
She reminds me that she had come in a year earlier and was denied.
Then it all comes back to me.
A single mom
A little girl who loved the apartment with the backyard
A letter she wrote to me and my boss explaining how her ex husband ruined her credit.
A few choice four letter words sent my way when I denied her.
(in my defense I was only one month into this job and had I been more experience I probably would have rented to her with a higher deposit)
Oh yeah I remembered.
She then goes on to remind me how heartless I was for not letting her in.
I put my fingers to my wrist to check my pulse and reassured her that my heart was in fact beating.
For some reason I thought it would make her laugh
So I go on to ask for the paper work to apply.
She informs me there is a waiting list.
Would have been nice to know before I took the tour and made a mental note to start watching more Dora so I could converse with my soon to be bilingual violin playing 2 year old.
So I put my name on the list
There were two people ahead of me.
It's been two years.
For some reason I don't think she is getting in.