'Cause when my leader sings that's all she wrote..I want the antidote.

Antidote. Anecdote. Seamless.

My dad is a retired teacher. Being the daughter of a teacher you get access to some cool stuff, like free tutoring. Haha, kidding. That never went well. Did I mention my dad taught calculus?

Lisa: Dad, I need help on this problem.
Dad: Okay…well, first, you start by looking at xyz. You know how to do xyz, right?
Lisa: No.
Dad: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO XYZ?!?

*AND SCENE!*

One of my favorite Dad-is-a-teacher memories was attending his school’s graduation. It was interesting. Different from Wakefield. Why? Because the student body didn’t look like…well…milk.

One year, when I was about 14 years old, I went with Dad to graduation. I remember it clearly. I was wearing a blue dress. Graduation was inside of a church, I think the temperature hovered somewhere around “magma.” After the ceremony, I was outside waiting for my dad to finish up talking to absolutely every single student to pass through the halls ever when I noticed a family staring at me. I didn’t know why, so I stared at my feet. Seemed like the right thing to do.

Finally, the Mom just came out and asked. “Are you Nancy Kerrigan?”

At this point, calculus made more sense than this question.

I said no. The family looked dejected. I ruined graduation.

I look NOTHING like Nancy Kerrigan. First of all, I was 14. That means I was extremely awkward.

Second of all, I had at least 45 lbs on Nancy Kerrigan. If Nancy Kerrigan was an Olympic ice cream eater, not figure skater, maybe, but this really wasn’t even close.

Third, I had some serious eyebrows. I looked more like Rudy Galindo than Nancy Kerrigan.

To make matters worse (or better?) I was also approached by a student and asked for my phone number. Still 14 and still awkward, I said no and noticed my dad watching from a distance, amused by the entire exchange.

(This is rivaled as my most awkward “approach by a creepy person” only by the time my Mom and sister were LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY in the middle of Stop & Shop when I was approached by a man named Victor and asked for my phone number. I was about 16. He was at least 40. He was wearing denim overalls.)

Memories are fun.