May 5th, 2010
Why didn’t you people tell me about the overachieving parents at elementary school? Was it a hard lesson you thought I should learn myself? Like how no one tells you your butt will hurt four years after giving birth?
I don’t know, I guess I thought that kindergarten would be more low-key. Like maybe the parents wouldn’t go batshit crazy trying to outperform the other when it came to projects and teacher gifts and valentines. Please dear Lord in his heaven above with the sweet baby Jesus and the Immaculate Mary, do NOT get me started on valentines. I thought a piece of fricken paper with a damn lollipop attached would be sufficient, but apparently some moms and dads need to have professional photos taken of their kids with a personalized valentine’s message and a coupon for See’s candy stapled to each and every one.
What the hell.
Non-crafty, non-independently wealthy, slightly apathetic moms like me are totally screwed.
So I kinda forgot about the valentines debacle, until this past Monday, which kicked off Teacher Appreciation Week. And huh? A week? What happened to a day? I don’t get “San Diego Momma Birthday Week” or “Happy Anniversary Week” or “Thank God My Butt Finally Stopped Hurting Week.” A day. A day should be enough. But no, it’s a week. An entire week of parents trying to outdo each other.
No one told me.
Why did no one tell me?
Fair enough. I suppose I should have put two and two together after some parents gave out the Crown Jewels on Valentine’s Day.
So we started Teacher Appreciation Week on Monday, naturally, with each kid tasked to bring a flower, ONE FLOWER (this is foreshadowing), to put in a vase for the teacher to enjoy. ONE FLOWER. Allow me to hit you over the head with the foreshadowing. Meanwhile, Toots brought a flower. A rose. A beautiful fragrant flower. ONE. But what is this? We get to school and there are bouquets, entire rose gardens, a hot air balloon dropping tulips over the schoolyard. Really parents? You couldn’t just do one flower?
So then it’s Tuesday. Tuesday, our children are asked to bring a piece of whole fruit. Something delicious to put in a basket for the teacher. Toots wants to pick some limes from our tree, and I think that is a wonderful idea, except that probably gardeners just sprayed that tree with DDT, but I let her pick some limes. It’s cute, she’s excited, and I hope her teacher washed the limes first. Meanwhile, I’m sure you know where this is going. Whole Florida orange orchards are given, seeds from the Tree of Souls, coconuts shipped from Gilligan’s Island.
So now it’s Wednesday. Today was bring a snack day. The kids were to select INDIVIDUALLY-SIZED packages of pretzels, chips. and sweets to fill the teacher’s snack jar. Screw the foreshadowing. Once again, some parents fucked it up for those of us who didn’t buy stock in Keebler. There goes Toots, bringing her ONE thing, drowning in a sea of hand-delivered Coney Island hot dogs and cotton candy machines. I would not have been surprised to see a truck backing up into the schoolyard delivering a lifetime supply of Lay’s potato chips to the teacher.
I am way too pissy for this type of one-upmanship.
And someone could have told me about the hemorrhoids.