I may not have had to witness my mom on stage in a Viking helmet and braids for Red and Grey Day, nor hear my classmates yelling “MOMTEITH!” in the middle of band class (as some of my peers with teacher-parents did), but my dad and I did share a comfortably-lowkey four years of coexistence at NT. Sure, it was weird realizing there were supply teachers who had held me as a baby. There’s no ‘but’ in that sentence. It was just weird.
Though I spent a lot of time avoiding eye-contact with him in the halls (look, I was a very awkward 14-year-old), when we DID choose to acknowledge that we were related, shenanigans did indeed ensue! There was the time we participated in “the Newlywed Game but for teachers and their children who attend NT” game for Charity Week, during which we did very poorly (how should I know who his teacher best friend is? Stupid game.). And there was the time I wrote a Graffiti article about teacher fashion, featuring an uber-exclusive behind-the-scenes photo of his tie collection. And there were all the car rides to school and back, during which I acquired the music taste of a middle-aged man (and I’m not mad about it!).
Jokes aside, Dad, I wish you a restful retirement and implore you and Mom take this opportunity to get a dog.