“I need tape.”

It was Lord of the Flies without the conch.

I volunteered at my son’s school today to help the his class build space creations out of things like milk cartoons, cardboard tubes, duct tape, foil and hot glue. (Basically the same materials my house is built out of.) As we walked toward the art classroom, my son’s teacher warned me, “You can turn back now.”  I looked into her eyes to see if she was kidding.

She wasn’t.

We entered the room and there were three moms in there.  They could sense fear in me. I had to mask it better. The kids would chew me up.

The door flew open.  I thought about the scene in Toy Story 3 when the preschoolers came flying into the room after the toys.  It was a 2nd-grader tsunami.

My son came over to me and gave me a hug (I’ll forever hang onto that memory.)  And then all the kids dumped their “spacecraft parts” onto the desks.  The building began.

I will hear “I need tape” in my sleep tonight. The kids said it more than Haley Barbour says “Marsha and I.”  Mr. Marshall, I need tape.  I need tape.  I need an aspirin.

I helped with three boys projects and assisted with four other kids’.  I got to know the kids.  Heck, I had a blast.

The hour passed quickly.  I went down and saw some of the other things the kids were doing and spoke to  a couple of the teachers I knew.  Then it was time to leave. As I walked out to the car, I came to these conclusions:

1. If I want my kids to get a good education, I darn well need to be part of it.

2.  I make a better uncle than parent — as in, I couldn’t teach full-time.  I am patience-challenged.  And I respect teachers — especially good ones — that much more.

3. A great school has great parents.

I pulled the last piece of tape off my face as I drove out of the parking lot and smiled.  I hope my son enjoyed it as much as I did.