don of all trades

Last night, while ignoring the pile of dishes and leftover food congealing on the stove so I could cram fun size KitKat bars and peanut butter cups down my throat while Wife was upstairs putting the boys to bed, Ace came down to give me my good night kiss and present me with her papers du jour from school.

Along with all of her school work, permission slips and reminders, as well as the daily planner I have to sign, there are all to often requests for either our time or money and last night was no exception.

This time it was a piece of art on crap that we could purchase for the benefit of the school. It’s not just any old art though, but art that Ace had created herself. We could get her admittedly good piece of work put onto a mouse pad or coffee mug or iPad case or key chain or ornament or water bottle or T-shirt or a whole host of other poorly made Chinese trinkets that we’d surely never use.

I’ve been on this planet for 40 years now and been Ace’s dad for 10, so I know when she’s excited about something and needs to be let down more gingerly with my “No, not this time” than she does when it’s

Must avoid the pouty face…

something she could care less about like permission to attend violin camp or something equally awful so as to not hurt her little feelings as only a parent can do to a child.

I was relieved to see that the due date wasn’t the very next day, because that would have meant having to write a check right then and there to get my new chef’s apron adorned with Ace’s special drawing. Because there was time, I told her that her drawing (it’s actually right there on the order form!!) was really good, and that her mother and I would talk about it and probably buy something for sure.

There is a good chance that I may buy something this time around only because it’s her last year in elementary school and I’m sentimental like that, but I’m getting tired of these schools making me feel like a total dick every month because I have to send my kid to school with order forms that say “No Thanks” while many of her classmates’ parents buy any and everything they can to support their little Johnny’s school.

I don’t want to come off as the cheap bastard that I am, but it’s gotten ridiculous. Aside from the fundraising at Ace’s school, we have a fundraiser at Cool’s school as well that we’re expected to participate in. I don’t have the numbers in front of me, but I believe the deal is we can either sell $350 worth of pizzas or holiday garbage, or write the school a check for $140 as a buyout option.

Um, Cool is four years old and is so easily distracted by bouncing balls or iPhone rings that his sales pitches are choppy and incoherent at best. Additionally, the wife frowns on my sending him out the door on his own to sell the necessary number of pizzas to keep the money Nazis at his Catholic preschool at bay. All this means is that this guy *DOAT points two thumbs at himself* is the one stuck selling this shit.

For starters, the holiday magazine stuff is just awful and nobody is ever interested in buying the bows or wrapping paper or whatever else is in that category, so our best bet is always the pizza.

So, daddy sends out an email to his unsuspecting coworkers such as this:

Look at me selling stuff…

Unable to resist Cool’s tiny little face, many cave and offer to buy frozen pizzas for nights when they don’t feel like going all out for their family dinner.

While they really aren’t terribly bad pizzas, the issue is where in the world am I supposed to store 50 fucking frozen pizzas at work all day??? I made it work the first year, but have refused this year to either sell pizzas or pay their precious buyout fee. I write a check for over $330 a month for his PRESCHOOL!!!!!! If you need 140 more dollars then just work it into the tuition for God’s sake!

These things are infuriating not necessarily unto themselves, but the cumulative amount from constant nickling and diming adds up.

Aside from the fundraisers, there are now not one, but two picture days at Ace’s school. That’s twice the opportunity to get shitty pictures of your kid taken in ridiculous poses in front of even more ridiculous backgrounds! It’s like they intentionally take fucked up photos so you’ll buy them the second time hoping they’ll be better in the spring.

The most fiendish part of the school picture conspiracy is that they send the kid home with a whole envelope of pictures already printed. Parents are allowed to purchase them and additional packets for the extended family, but if you don’t want to pay for them, then please send them back to school with your child.

Daddy: “What do they do with the pictures if we send them back with you, Ace?”

Ace: “They said that they’ll throw them away for us.”

Nice! Some parents, I’m sure, can’t bear the thought of their baby’s photos in a giant dumpster, but the DOAT clan is beyond that. Thankfully, Wife isn’t very sentimental about most things school related, so the decision to let them toss the pictures in the trash is pretty easy. Don’t get me wrong, we do buy some pictures, but we wait until the spring, because they have to be better. It’s the last chance so the photographers do it right then.

I’ll save for another post my frustrations with being unable to attend every trivia night, PTO meeting or classroom parents are invited event that also make me feel like an inadequate parent. Those are in no short supply either.