Thursday, June 13, 2013

I’m not gonna miss this shit!!!

Another School Fundraiser! Yay! (Shit)

Is there a school in America that doesn't have their students sell stuff to make money?

You know a little extra pocket change for things like BOOKS and an AV projector?  (OK – in our school it is called an Elmo System, but I don’t think it has anything to do with Sesame Street.)

Because if such a school exists? I’m sending my kids there.

Not that I don’t enjoy buying some more really ugly wrapping paper or having more scented candles which activate my husband’s allergies?  Cuz I totally enjoy that, being that I aspire to be on the A&E Hoarders show at least once in my life.

But seriously? This stuff is killing me.

Let’s see:  there is peanut brittle (cuz I need me a little more candy in my house), See’s Candy (cuz that’s how you promote healthy eating in the schools), wrapping paper, tchotke stuff, cookie dough (well, let’s not jump to eliminate ALL of these things right off the bat).

Now we don’t have any relatives.  Seriously.  My husband and I are only children and my parents are gone (I love you Mama and Daddy!).

So what is left? 

My kids walking up and down the street trying to sell this shit to the neighbors, or a quick trip to the Mommy Bank.

Well, that’s a viable skill to have, right?  Cold calling, learning how to make a quick pitch, facing rejection early on in life.

Yeah.  None of that is going to happen.

For one thing, I like my neighbors. (OK, most of my neighbors.)

Thing two? I’m not going with them and they aren’t going alone.

Thing three? There is no thing 3 – it just isn't gonna happen.

So here’s what I learned. 

If I buy this crap, not only do I have more stuff to go in my Goodwill bin, but the school only gets 50 cents of the dollar.

So I have solved the problem.

I write a check.

Every time.

Each kid.

Every fundraiser.

I write about 15 checks a year.

I will happily pay cold hard cash to NOT have my children develop their sales skills.  Really?  I’m supposed to prepare them for a future as the Fuller Brush Man or the Avon Lady?

Not happening.

And if they kept track of this stuff at the schools?

I’d be in the platinum cash club.

But they don’t.

All my kids know is that they don’t win the iPad or the Pizza party for having the most sales.

Cuz you know, they are deprived.

I tell them to just cry into the piano, saxophone case, bicycle basket or better yet, the MacBook.

Deprived of some things. But a less crazy Mom?

Uh kids? THAT is a gift!

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