by Pat Merewether

Created on: January 13, 2009   Last Updated: August 11, 2010

My daughter, Lois, called in a panic one Monday morning. It was her day to help with her son's kindergarten class and she was in labor! Being the dedicated soul she is, she asked if I'd fill in for her. Now in my own form of panic, I agreed to help. I would have said yes to gelding a camel if it got her into the car and on her way to the hospital sooner! I heard my son-in-law revving the engine in the background.

"Oh, and Mom? I was supposed to bring the treats and I haven't baked anything!" she gasped this last sentence out and I tried to remain calm but said, "Don't worry about the freaking cookies, and get to the hospital!"

I hadn't helped out in a classroom for nearly twenty years, and then it was for the sixth grade, an entirely different planet from kindergarten. But, how hard could it be, right?"

I managed to arrive at the school on time and headed toward the classroom number Lois gave me. I'd only taken about five steps down the hallway when someone shot out of the office and raced after me, "Ma'am!" "Wait!' I think I heard someone else call for "Security!"

What? I turned around and was quickly escorted back to the office. I guess security in schools is much tighter these days than when I last helped. I felt like a criminal. Two staff members sat me down in the principal's office. The principal wasn't in the building, so I guess some things never change. My two inquisitors, (I call them Mr. Eyebrows as his were very animated and bushy, and Mrs. Chicken because she made a sort of clucking sound between sentences) started their interrogation. These folks probably worked for the CIA at some point in their lives. "Who was I" "Why was I in thei' building? "Who sent me?" "Did I have any connections to known terrorist activities?" (I made that last one up). They did, however, ask to see my driver's license and a second piece of ID.

Finally, I was released. I asked for my one phone call and checked in on my daughter, who was on her way home - it was a false alarm.

My captors escorted me to my grandson's classroom. When Kevin saw me he jumped up and with a big grin yelled, "Grandma! Hi!" This of course disrupted the class into all sorts of squeaks and giggles and so didn't set well with the teacher.

I explained who I was and why I was there. I also told her that the cookies I'd purchased for the treat were being held in quarantine in the principal's office and they may not be released until the lab results came back. She told me not to worry that another mother

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