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Mission Impossible
Contributed by : Kellie Head of
The-M-Word
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After twelve weeks of hearing “I’m bored” and “It’s too
hot to play outside,” I am more than ready to send my little angels back to school.
As the first day of enrollment rolls around, I am never sure if I should
celebrate with champagne or prepare with migraine medication. It’s not
as easy as dropping the kids off at the door and running. The
administrators and superintendents spent their summer vacation scheming
to make class registration a parental hazing.
Each district, each school, and each teacher has their
own list of supply “needs” your children MUST have--leaving parents wondering if
companies like Mead and Crayola offer teacher kickbacks for mandating
exclusive use of their products.
Failure to procure exact paraphernalia results in
parental detention: The teacher sends a note (in red ink, no less) requesting a meeting,
then keeps you waiting in the hall for 45 minutes while your legs fall
asleep in the student chair she provided for your comfort. Once in the
classroom, she explains the importance of class unity and how proper
supply-readiness plays a pivotal role in the education process. Any
parent humbled by this experience better prepares for the following
semester.
Our first phase in “do it or die” supply shopping was
securing store blueprints of Wal-Mart and Target. We plotted the best route to number
2 soft lead pencils, wide-ruled loose leaf paper, and compass/protractor
combination sets, while carefully bypassing the Rugrat Wallapoluza
display in the main aisle. Search and reconnaissance with the fewest
possible casualties was our number one priority.
Our best-laid plans were foiled at the first turn. No
one could have anticipated the angry mob hovering around the stock clerk as he unloaded
the latest shipment of Paper-Mate pens and mechanical pencils, or the
fistfight, taking place near the Trapper Keeper end-cap.
As I squeezed my arm in-between the blockade of bodies,
to retrieve my take of the haul, a booming voice rang out over the crowd. The store’s
manager announced a Blue Light Special on combination locks in the
hardware department, causing a stampede of epic proportions. I’d have
stayed in the deserted aisle to rummage through the remains for the
contents of my list, but I too, needed a combination lock at a rock
bottom price.
I hadn’t even considered the cost involved in nurturing
my children’s scholastic well being. Kids always plead their case for the character
stuff, like the Garfield notebook with 50 sheets of paper for twice the
price of the generic brand. And they all want the latest Disney movie
lunchbox. Imagine the school cafeteria… identical rows of youngsters
all bickering over whose box belongs to whom and as a result, mothers
all over town unpack some other student’s leftover bologna sandwich.
And, if the trappings of Loony Toon assignment books
and Michael Jordan gym shoes weren’t enough to entice you into VISA Gold overload, maybe
the premature bloom of Christmas decorations will do the trick. On
every corner and at every intersection of the store I gasped at elves
shamelessly promoting Mr. Know-it-All calculators and reindeer hauling a
sleigh of colored pencils and wide-tip markers. I had to avert my
daughter’s eyes as we dashed passed Frosty the Snowman sporting a Lisa
Frank backpack and pimping Barney brand two-pocket folders.
Finally home, and unpacking more junk than we sold at
our last garage sale, we divvied the loot into the appropriate child’s pile and began
the inscribing process. Student names were required on every pencil,
eraser, folder and notebook; I knew for certain, the teacher would take
note of my penmanship. I stood back in awe, proud of myself for
completing the “school supply scavenger hunt”, and living to tell the
tale, when I heard a sobbing voice in the hallway wail, “Mommy, you
forgot my glue sticks.”
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| Submitted by:Kellie Head is a freelance humorist, Parenting
Humor Editor for Netscape and Publishing Editor of
Parenting Humor Magazine
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