Last night I got a call from my son’s 2nd grade teacher, asking for a parent volunteer to come in this morning and help the kids make apple turnovers. I was just complaining to a friend the other day that I really want to help out in his classroom, and I’ve offered on several occasions, but I haven’t been contacted yet. So when I got the call, I jumped at the chance.
Of course, at nine o’clock at night, jumping at the chance involved a last-minute scramble for child-care and a quick rearrange of my plans for today.
‘Cause, have I mentioned the brunch I’m hosting tomorrow for TWENTY-FIVE women from my church? Suffice it to say, I had a few things on my agenda this morning. Things that did not involve a two-hour stint at my son’s school as the Turnover Lady.
But it was important to my son and to me that I be there. So we worked out the legistics.
Isn’t "legistics" a valid word? My spell checker doesn’t like it, and I can’t even find it at dictionary.com. Hmph.
So anyway. We worked out the details. There, take that Mr. Spell Check.
I had a great time, and my son was so excited to have me there. It’s always nice to be a fly on the wall, so to speak, in your child’s school and see the inner workings. So far I’ve always been pleased. This year he is blessed to have a wonderful teacher who has the experience of thirty years in the teaching profession but hasn’t yet begun to get burned out. You can see that she loves what she does, and the kids obviously adore her.
But one thing really stuck out at me while I was there, and that was the attire of the teachers. In stark contrast to the overdressed lady at the orthodontist office the other day, what I witnessed today was just as shocking to me, and yet at the other end of the wardrobe spectrum.
I saw more flip flops, blue jeans, and message t-shirts than I’ve seen in one place since I went to that Steve Miller Band concert back in college. And I’m not talking about the students. In fact, I daresay the students were better dressed than the teachers. When I was substitute teaching ten years ago, I know they weren’t dressing like this. And it’s not like this is a lower socio-economic area either. I knew that the teaching profession had gone casual in its dress code, and I’m glad for teachers to be comfortable, but at some point there’s a lack of respect for the position. And I daresay they’ve crossed that line.
I know, I know, enough with the judging of other people’s wardrobe choices this week. I probably ought to take a good look at the log in my eye. But I really was caught off guard by this.
Anyway, after I finished being Turnover Lady, I morphed back into Hostess-With-The-Mostest and ran to the grocery store to pick up a few last minute ingredients for the strata I’m making for tomorrow.
Then on my way to pick up my daughter at preschool, I noticed the McDonalds in the grocery store parking lot. Usually Mickey-D’s doesn’t appeal to me all that much, but I was starving, and for some reason old Ronald McDonald was calling my name. So I thought to myself, I’ll just pick up a Happy Meal for the baby so I don’t have to mess up the kitchen fixing her lunch. (C ate at school today — Oh, Lunch Bunch, How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.)
I got the Happy Meal for R and a cheeseburger for myself, paid the friendly clerk, and went on about my merry way. The fries were hot and fresh and salty and oh-so-yummy. (Shhhh. Don’t tell Dr. Weil.) The Coke was the perfect ratio of high fructose syrup and carbonation (Dr. Weil has fainted dead away by now). Coke lovers among us, have you noticed that there’s nothing quite like a McDonald’s Coca-Cola? How is it so much better than it is anywhere else??
When I reached the first stop-light, I unwrapped my cheeseburger, smiling in anticipation. I wiped the drool off my chin and took a bite.
It was a most disappointing bite. It was room temperature. It was dry. The cheese wasn’t even melted. It looked and tasted like it had been sitting around since yesterday. And it very well might have been, as this was only 11:30 in the morning. Am I mistaken, or do they not even serve their lunch menu until 11AM? I can’t imagine that a burger made within the last 30 minutes could be so stale and dissatisfactory.
I took another bite, for some reason expecting it to be better than the first. It was not.
Before I was tempted to finish it, I put it back in the bag, rolled the top down, and then as an added measure of insurance, I squeezed it and mashed it up until it no longer resembled a cheeseburger. Which is a good thing, because sure enough, a couple minutes later, I found myself reaching for the demolished cheeseburger, forgetting momentarily about its demise.
Could I possibly use more commas in one sentence?
At any rate, I would have probably finished the thing had I not killed it when I had the chance.
So after my unfortunate McDonalds experience, I returned home to unload groceries, arrange flowers, prepare a strata, set the table, and complete all the last minute household tasks that are required when one is hosting an event in one’s home.
And that is where I am at this very moment.
But I have one more thing to add. I’m going to my first Silpada party tonight. Yes, with an event in the morning. But I really
need want a night out. (Hosting a brunch does not count., even if Hubs is taking the kids far far away for a couple of hours.) So I’m going to try to be all ready for tomorrow when I leave for the party tonight so I’m not up until 1am cleaning bathrooms and arranging flowers. Not that I would ever procrastinate such important tasks until the last minute like that.
Anyway, for those of you who don’t know and are too lazy to click on the link, Silpada is a company that sells their merchandise through home parties like Pampered Chef and Tupperware. Except it’s jewelry and not kitchen tools. And from what I understand, it’s not cheap jewelry either. At least, the prices aren’t cheap. I can’t speak to the quality of the products, although I’ll be sure to let you know tomorrow.
So my question to you is this. Can you or should you or do you justify spending money on pricey jewelry for yourself for no good reason? Or do you usually go to such an event prepared only to purchase Christmas gifts for women in your life? Or maybe you should look for a Christmas gift for yourself and make life easier on your husband buy purchasing it and giving it to him to give to you on December 25th.
And by "you" I really mean "me". In case you didn’t figure that out already.
Also. I’m not proof-reading. No time. So I apologize in advance for any typos or poorly formed sentences.