About Rebecca Eckler
Since becoming pregnant with her daughter Rowan, Canadian journalist and author Rebecca Eckler has penned three hilarious books, including the best-selling Knocked Up. Catch Rebecca’s weekly unique perspective on motherhood and single parenthood.
There’s nothing like feeling like you’re in trouble…when you’re an adult.
“She has to do pages 28 and 29,” the teacher at my daughter’s once-a-week Hebrew school lessons told me when I picked her up. "We can’t find the book,” I told the teacher, as I had the week before. And I told her the same thing the week before that.
My daughter’s Hebrew homework book really was missing. Well, it must be somewhere in our house, but we couldn’t find it. It was like missing socks after you do the laundry. Her homework book really had disappeared.
“She has to do pages 28 and 29,” the teacher responded, as if she didn’t hear me.
“But we can’t find the book,” I told her again.
The teacher looked at me as if I were a misbehaving child – not a grown woman – and told me, for the third time, that my daughter had to do pages 28 and 29. I simply did what any adult who was scared of a teacher would do. I gulped, nodded my head, and shirked out of there.
When we got home we looked, again, for the book. I felt like a child who hadn’t done her homework. I felt guilty. But, really, the book was gone!
My daughter, of course, didn’t really care. Hebrew school to her is just fun. She likes the songs and the stories. She does homework five other days of the week.
Then it was Sunday morning again. “What are we going to do, mommy, about the book?”
“What can we do? The book is missing. Don’t worry. I’ll tell your teacher,” I said to my daughter, trying to sound strong.
At the Hebrew school, I admit, I was scared. I told myself I was being completely unreasonable, that I was an adult, that it was ridiculous to be scared of a teacher.
“Her homework isn’t done,” I told the teacher, waiting for a look of disappointment.
“Maybe you should look for the book in your house?” the teacher suggested.
I almost burst out into laughter.
“Here’s the thing,” I explained. “The book is GONE. It will never be found. EVER. What can we do to fix this?”
“Ok, we’ll get her another one then,” the teacher responded. Didn’t she know I had been freaking out about it for three weeks?
And that was that. When you’re a mother, you no longer have to be scared of the teacher. Why do I always forget this?
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