Please Accept My Resignation As Chief Person Forced To Sit Next To My Kid During Remote Learning
Sent From My Bed
January 14, 2022
Dear Matty,
As you know, twenty-eight students in your grade school tested positive for the new variant of Covid-19 today. With 42% of your school’s teachers out sick, quarantining, or entering witness relocation, it seems likely your first-grade class will transition to online learning again soon. With these horrifying new developments in mind, I ask you to accept my resignation. I am stepping down from my position as Chief Person Forced To Sit Next To You During Remote Learning.
I have not arrived at this decision lightly. Thanks to the pandemic, I’ve lost the ability to do anything lightly. I want you to know that I appreciate our strong working relationship that began one snowy February night six years ago when I spent several hours pushing you out of my vagina. But despite our genetic — and what I am told is a “legal” bond (I’m looking into this) — I’m not sure I am right for this job anymore.
I’ll admit I was surprised when I was awarded the position of CPFTSNTYDRL in March of 2020 since I did not — and would not — apply for this job.
Ever.
Like ever, ever.
But thanks to people who think they know more than every leading epidemiologist because they watched one YouTube video shared by their friend Connie from church, I find myself STILL half-heartedly rising to this uniquely shitty challenge.
During Pandemic September #1, I relished the opportunity to help you unmute your morning Zoom so you could arrhythmically scream-sing the Days of the Week song with your remote kindergarten inmates. But that was, by my hazy count, 148 years ago — and as we turn the calendar to 2022 and usher in yet another letter to the Greek alphabet I didn’t know existed, I know in my cold, boxed-wine-bloated heart, it is time for me to move on. For it’s no longer a matter of if you’ll return to remote learning, but when.
After I typed that last sentence, I had to silently stare at the wall for ninety-seven minutes straight. Sorry, where was I? Oh, yes, quitting.
I trust, that with a robust candidate search, you will find someone worthy of this unique role. Someone who doesn’t lose their entire mind when you refuse (for no rational reason!) to write three words that start with the letter G. Did you know it’s not hard to think of three words that start with the letter G? Just look around the god damn house! JESUS! JUST WRITE THREE WORDS THAT START WITH G AND WE CAN BE DONE FOR THE DAY!
Sorry. What was I saying? Oh yeah. I quit.
You deserve more, Matty. And more importantly, I deserve WAY, WAY more.
Please note that although I am stepping down from this position effective more than immediately, I have informed Human Resources I wish to stay on as your mother — the initial position for which I onboarded in 2015. I look forward to continuing our work together in that very specific and limited arena.
You have a bright future, Matty — and I can’t wait to watch from just a liiiiittle more distance. Like down the street. With you in a different building. That is a school.
Best of luck for the remainder of first grade and all the upcoming variants!
Respectfully,
Mom
CC: Steve Robertson, husband
CC: Dr. Diana Fritz, therapist
P.S. Because of the pandemic you haven’t really learned to read yet and won’t be able to sound out most of the words in this letter. Go ask Dad to help you. I’m busy.
