Teacher Charlotte (41) is crazy about Fiene’s parents

There is a pleasant excitement in the class, because we are going to make toasted sandwiches. Like every Thursday. The kids love it. They take turns bringing ketchup from home. Today it is Fiene’s turn. But she doesn’t look happy. After lingering by my chair for a while, she hands me a bottle of Heinz with a small amount of ketchup. “Sorry miss,” she says. “He was up.”

I’m mad at her parents

I feel annoyance rising. Not towards Fiene, but towards her parents. I’m crazy about those two. We have just finished the school camp where they both refused to pay the €25 parental contribution. Because they both felt it was the other’s turn – they’re not together anymore. Father did not respond to phone calls, texts and emails at all. Mom only answered the phone to say she didn’t pay because it was her ex’s turn.

Daddy doesn’t want to pay

Meanwhile, Fiene told her friends that she didn’t want to go to camp because she didn’t feel like it. When I heard that, I invited her for a chocolate milkshake at the little tent on the corner. She confessed that she wanted to, but that she simply couldn’t. “Because my father doesn’t want to pay. That’s what my mother says.” I said the school would sort it out, and she could definitely come along. “We’re not even leaving without you,” I said. “Far too unsociable.”

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Two phone calls

The night before camp I got two phone calls. At eight o’clock, Fiene’s mother called to say that we didn’t have to think she was poor, so she paid anyway, but that she thought her ex was an asshole. At nine o’clock the ‘bitch’ called and asked if I had an air mattress for Fiene. Luckily I had one in the attic.

Count to ten

The next morning a Porsche pulled up at the school. Fiene and her father got out of there. Perhaps the latter wanted to show that he wasn’t poor either. And now Fiene is standing here with her ketchup bottle. I had a premonition this morning. That’s why I brought an extra bottle of ketchup. I open my bag with a wink. It’s as if the sun is rising, that’s how Fiene starts to shine. In fact, that makes me even more angry. I’m glad her parents aren’t in front of me, otherwise I’d be able to scold them. I have to get rid of this feeling. At home I google ‘How do I deal with anger?’ The same old-fashioned tip is repeated on all sites: count to ten.

It does not help

The next morning I bump into Fiene’s mother. As I stare at her, I silently count to ten to myself. It does not help. I’m still angry. I go on until twenty. It must be a weird sight. I suddenly have to laugh at her surprised look. She smiles back hesitantly. I feel my anger draining away. I kindly ask: “Shall we talk about Fiene soon?”

This article was previously published in Kek Mama.

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