There are moments that define you as a parent. Ones that make you beam with pride, make you think “I am doing things right!” Where you know, without a doubt, that the kid you’re raising is going places. That they are going out into this world and are probably going to leave it a better place, and just maybe, you had a little hand in doing that.

Then there are other moments that define you and make you want to crawl under a rock. Make you want to hide and pretend that the other parent is to blame for all the shortcomings of the child before you and that you can take the high road to perfect parent town. But, of course, no one is going to buy that because you started the Mom’s Wine/Book Club at school and swear like a sailor and the truth is probably written in some notebook in the school office.

Back in 2016, when my kiddo was but a small second grader, my ‘moment’ happened.

On the day in question, we picked our son up early from school. I think we were taking him on a surprise trip to the mountains. As we stood in the hallway speaking with his second grade teacher, his music teacher, who was also the assistant principal of the school, walked up to us, chuckling to himself.

“Oh! I have to tell you what happened in music today!” he starts, “Your son outdid himself in class.” and he started to full on belly laugh. Now Mr. P was a fun loving and amazing teacher and human. I’d gotten to know him through some volunteer work I’d done with the school, so we had a good relationship and could tease one another easily.

Once he regained his composure, he continued. “We were discussing the strength and weaknesses of the beats in a measure of music.”

I smiled as our son was now in his third year of piano lessons and could often be helpful in his music class. While piano theory was his least favourite, he understood it well and I knew if Mr. P needed, he wasn’t afraid to ask our son to help demonstrate concepts to his fellow classmates.

“I was using Red Solo cups as a visual aid as it helps the kids to see the difference between the beats. Large cups for the strong beats, minis for the weak beats.” He paused. “I held up the large cup for the kids to see and told them they are for the STRONG beats! Then I held up the mini ones and without missing a beat, your son interjects…”

“Mr. P! Those ones are for SHOTS!”

Mr. P, my son’s teacher, and my husband all broke into laughter and I wanted to crawl under a rock.