My Moustache Is Bigger!

“Hello, how’re you doing today?” The cheery woman in the office mused. Her bright copper name tag shone “Tanya”. It was a quarter to 12; Roberto was right on time. “Hi, my name is Roberto Arevalo. I’m here to have lunch with my daughter and her classmates,” he said, timidly. It was his daughter’s first month of Kindergarten. She had been begging him to come sit with her at lunch since she knew it was allowed. Roberto was new to all the processes and rules of Huntington Elementary School and had missed the open invitation for lunch at meet-the-teacher-day: the only other time in his life he had stepped foot inside an elementary school. As a child he had been home-schooled with various tutors brought in to teach him subjects his mother couldn’t. But now, his life was dictated by the stubborn 5 year old that, he guessed, was probably convincing another student to shove crayons up their nose. That girl could convince the devil to share his toys, hence how Roberto ended up promptly checking into the office of an elementary school to share his lunch hour with 25-30 5-year-olds.

“Oh how lovely! The kids get such a kick out of seeing each other’s parents. You’ll certainly be popular. Okay, now hold on just a moment and I’ll print you off a badge. Smile here.” She indicated to a small laptop with a front-facing camera. He saw his own face appear on a delay on the screen. He shyly grinned at his own confused face and as the camera caught up the woman snapped his photo. Immediately a bright yellow sticker printed out on the far end of the desk. Tanya shuffled over to it and peeled off the still-warm back. “Here you go. Just wear this while you’re in the building. The lunchroom is back towards the main door on your right. Did you bring your own lunch, or will you go through the line with her?” Roberto was caught off guard. He certainly didn’t bring his own lunch but had not expected to be dining on the same ham sandwiches and mixed vegetables that the school provided for its youngest attendees. But it was too late now to scramble together some semblance of an “adult lunch” so he opted for a simple, “I’ll go through the line, thanks.”

After parting from Tanya, Roberto followed her directions towards the lunchroom. As he approached, he noticed how different the scene was from when he had entered the school just a few minutes before. The once-barren halls were now flooded with lines of children, most of them looked to be around his daughter’s age. There were tiny index fingers over lips, hand holding, and long ropes going from the top of one line to the back. It seemed every classroom with 2 dozen kids each had a different method of controlling the chaos that is lunch time… but it seemed to be working. Once kids were far enough along in the line to start selecting their milk choices, they were free from their intentionally-distracting activities.

Roberto was still taking in the organized chaos when he heard behind him, “DADDY!!! DADDY OVER HERE!!!” He smiled and turned to see his daughter Maria waving frantically at him, one hand clasped around a bright purple ring linking her to the rest of her classmates. As he made his way over to her, he noticed her roughly elbowing the students on either side of her, gesturing wildly in my direction. He quickly picked up on a few dozen pairs of eyes settling directly on him. Having never been one for getting the attention of a crowd, Roberto was uneasy at the amount of attention he was getting. Thankfully, another normal-sized adult emerged from the sea of tiny eyes to greet him.

“Mr. Arevalo, how nice to see you. Maria has been talking about this all week, it’s so great to see parents coming to have lunch here. You’ll be the talk of the class for the rest of the day.” Roberto wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he was happy to please Maria. “Yeah, of course. So how exactly does this… work?” He was nervous and it was obvious, probably even to the gaggle of 5-year-olds that, with their teacher distracted, were quickly creating a small roar of conversation. The teacher, Ms. Black, shot a glance towards her now-disruptive class. The roar continued, but tiny hands returned to grasp the colorful ringed rope. Ms. Black seemed satisfied and returned her attention to Roberto.

“Well, it’s quite simple. You can stand with your daughter in line and go through with her, I see you didn’t bring lunch and are going to eat the cafeteria food?” Roberto nodded slowly. There was no way out of it now. Ms. Black seemed to pick up on his hesitation and quietly whispered, “It’s not so bad. Avoid the green beans.” Roberto smiled. Ms. Black continued, “Then Maria,” Ms. Black led Roberto over to his daughter and gently placed a hand on Maria’s back, “will show you where we sit.” Roberto felt his daughter take his hand and saw she was beaming up at him. “Don’t worry Dad! The lunchroom is HUUUUUGE. But you have me! I won’t let you get lost.” Roberto squeezed her hand gently. “Oh good. I was already starting to feel lost, make sure you hold my hand or I might accidently wander away.” She and the students within earshot giggled. Roberto, still anxious, felt a wave of relief with his newfound guide by his side.

Eventually, the line shuffled forward and Ms. Black collected the colorful rope. Maria was buzzing beside him, talking so fast she was somewhat nonsensical. Her chosen topic of conversation jumped from the alphabet mat in her classroom to the last time a parent dropped by for lunch to making puppy noises with the girl behind her, a small blonde-haired girl that Roberto learned through the constant babbling was named Abby. Roberto savored his daughter’s extroverted nature because it usually meant he didn’t have to get a word in edgewise. She was domineering in a conversation, especially when she was excited. And this was the most excited he had seen her since she awoke to her Elf-on-a-Shelf riding a 2-foot-tall stuffed pony in her room.

The pair, holding hands, entered the doorway that immediately funneled into the cafeteria line. Maria was still chattering away as she grabbed a tray, silverware, and a carton of Strawberry milk. Roberto followed in tune. She was in the middle of some story about a game called “Snowball” that the kids play in gym when Roberto nudged her, gesturing toward the cafeteria worker who was patiently awaiting her order. “Oh! Chicken nugget Friday, YES!”  Maria started doing a silly yet elaborate dance in the aisle in excitement. At the end of the line, Maria provided her student number for her lunch account and Roberto pulled out a wrinkled 5-dollar bill for his payment. “Oh Dad, can we get a fruit roll-up?? They’re 75 cents and I see them every day and I really really really want one!” The cashier looked at her solemnly and said, “Now Maria, do you expect me to just sit here and not inform your father that you’ve been getting a fruit roll-up every day and charging it to your lunch account?” Maria looked up at me guiltily and I raised my eyebrows. “Come on Dad, let’s go sit down!” She was quick, he had to give her that.

Roberto obediently followed his daughter across the lunchroom; he had never been in an elementary school lunchroom before. He could feel all eyes in the lunchroom on him, students and teachers alike. How common was it for parents to come eat lunch with their kids? It sure seemed like a big deal to everyone at the school. He sat down next to his daughter, the small plastic circular seat creaking under his weight. The Kindergarteners ate first of all the grades so despite the calamity in the hall, it actually dispersed quite a bit once they sat down and the cafeteria seemed somewhat empty.

Maria was still chittering happily while shoving chicken nuggets into her mouth. “And then we folded the paper… and made a weird humpy thing… had really pretty colors and designs… and opened and it was a butterfly!” Small bits of chicken nugget flew out of her mouth as she spoke. “Honey, chew then swallow. There’s no rush.” Maria scoffed. “Dad, there’s almost no time! Lunch is only 25 minutes and that includes our walk here and the time in the line! And it’s chicken nugget Friday!” She was practically yelling. Ms. Black shot her a disapproving glance from her seat at the other end of the table. Maria shoved another nugget into her already-full mouth.

Soon other students began congregating around the two of them. Roberto knew there were plenty of seats available at their table, but all the students seemed to gravitate towards Maria and her Dad. Abby sat across from Maria and began counting the number of small scratches and mosquito bites she had covering her arms and legs. A chubby boy sat next to Roberto and was struggling to open his chocolate milk. Roberto decided to give the nuggets a try and immediately regretted his decision. They weren’t notably awful, but he much preferred his usual BLT at Jenny’s Diner down the street from his office. And besides, he knew someone who would make sure they don’t go to waste. “Maria, Abby, do you guys want to share my chicken nuggets?” Both of their eyes widened. “Oh Dad, this is the best chicken nugget Friday EVER!!!” Ms. Black quickly approached our side of the table. “Maria, I know you are excited that your Dad is here, but we are still inside. Please try and keep your voice down. You’d hate for your Dad to see you in time-out wouldn’t you?” She winked at Roberto and Maria quickly responded, “Okay, sorry Ms. Black!” But not before shoving a fresh chicken nugget into her mouth.

The chubby boy next to Roberto tugged on his sleeve. “Hey Mr. Arevalo. Is it true Maria has two Dads? Because that’s not real. Isn’t one of you her Mom?” Roberto felt his chest tighten. He was very secure with himself and Daniel’s relationship and their ability to be good parents for Maria, but hearing it come from a chubby Kindergartener in an elementary school lunchroom was a first. Maria was distracted, disputing the final count of 122 scrapes and bites Abby had concluded she had on her arms and legs. “Well,” Roberto said, addressing the boy. He could tell 3 or 4 other students were also listening. “She does have 2 Dads. Her other Dad looks a lot like me, black hair and about my size but he wears glasses and has a moustache. Neither of us wanted to marry a woman, we wanted to marry each other. So that’s how Maria has 2 Dads.” The chubby boy responded immediately, “Wait, so he’s the Dad too? But he has a moustache so that makes him the most Dad. You don’t have a moustache, doesn’t that mean you’re the most Mom?” Roberto was dumbfounded. He had heard every argument under the sun as to why a child shouldn’t be brought into a homosexual marriage, but this was something quite different. Something that could only come out of the mouth of an inquisitive and unapologetic 5-year-old.

Roberto started laughing. “Well, maybe it makes him more Dad than me, but I am still Dad too.” A girl from across the table piped up, “My Dad has a moustache! Does that mean he’s more Dad than you??” This was starting to get hard to follow. “Well… Err…” Maria came to the rescue. She had heard the tail end of the conversation and quickly picked up a French fry. “Wait, I have a moustache, too! That makes me a Dad!” She puckered her lips out as far as they would stretch and gently balanced a French fry on top of her upper lip. “That makes me a Dad!”

The rest of the lunch period was spent balancing French fries on puckered lips, and then various objects like milk cartons and on top of forks that were in turn balanced across the hard plastic plates. Eventually, Ms. Black stood up and announced that it was time to return to the classroom. All the children methodically gathered their crumpled napkins and used sauce-packets onto their plates and headed towards the cafeteria doors in a neat line. After throwing away their scraps and placing their trays on the small conveyor belt near the cashier, the kids lined up and waited as Ms. Black handed out the colorful ringed rope once more. Maria propped one foot up on the brick wall and leaned against it, turning the ring over and over in her hands. “Thanks for coming today Dad. When are you coming again?” Roberto smiled. “How often do parents usually come?” He asked, glancing at Ms. Black. Instead of the answer coming from her, Maria herself answered. “You’re my Dad! You come whenever you want.” Roberto wasn’t smiling anymore… he was beaming. “Okay, kid. I’ll see you next week?” Maria looked astounded. “No Dad!! I want to see you at home first!” Roberto laughed. “Okay, okay. Home first. Lunch again next week, though?” Her anxiety quickly turned to excitement as her classmates began tugging her along on the rope. “Yeah! Yeah, next week! I love you thanks for the chicken nuggets!!!”

Roberto stood smiling in her direction and waving until her class turned a corner and disappeared. He noticed the eyes of the now-second grade classes that were fixed on him as they lined up for lunch and without the domineering energy of his daughter by his side, he felt out of place once more and started shuffling towards the door.

As he exited his daughter’s school, Roberto took out his phone and dialed Daniel’s number. “Hey, how did lunch go?” Daniel inquired as he picked up. “It was certainly something. I think you and Maria have a lunch date next Friday… Want to switch off every week? I still don’t think those kids believe she has 2 Dads. They really want to see your moustache,” I mused. “Oh, and by the way, she needs some more money in her account. Someone has been sneaking fruit roll-ups every day. I swear that kid really thinks she can get away with anything.” Daniel’s laugh crackled through the phone. “Wow, you really had a good time didn’t you?” Roberto thought back to his daughter’s wide-eyes shoving extra chicken nuggets into her mouth. “Yeah, I did.” His stomach rumbled and Roberto’s thoughts drifted to the BLT at Jenny’s. “Also, make sure you don’t’ come hungry.”