Our lives will forever be changed as we become subject to the world of school schedules and peer pressure and homework (do kindergarteners have homework? I do not know.) I am also incredibly apprehensive because soon the jig will be UP. Soon Jay will learn that other kids get cupcakes and sugar cookies in their lunchbox not just wheatberries and dandelion salads or whatever. Soon he will learn about video games and that some kids have televisions IN THEIR OWN house, not just at their grandma and grandpa's. He may even learn that Cheetos are something people actually eat, instead of throw in campfires.
While Jay is alternately nonchalant and crazy excited, I am alternately weepy and neurotic. All of my weaknesses and insecurities are dancing about in my head as I lay down at night, going over his school supply list for the hundredth time to make sure I have picked up everything and wondering what we should pack him for lunch in his new Lightening McQueen lunch box. What if we are late for the first day of school? What if his teacher is like that one I heard about in the news who sold her student’s winter coats on E-bay only to get busted by a parent who went searching for a replacement only to find her own kid’s coat for sale? What if the snacks are full of high fructose corn syrup and blue lake #5? What if all the other kids are playing Crocodiles and Parakeets, but Jay doesn’t know what that is because I just made it up right now? What if the other parents don’t like meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?
I am, as I have detailed in earlier posts, not so good about getting to places on time. Five minutes late? Heck, I’m early. Ten minutes late? Right on time. Fifteen minutes late? Eh. Twenty minutes late? What? Why is everyone staring at me? Do I have spinach in my teeth?
So, it was with no small amount of concern to learn that Jay’s school ends at 3:17. Like, not even a round number. I can’t really fudge that pick up time when they have identified the time with such precision. And here’s the other problem: which time piece should I rely on come the start of school? The microwave, which is three minutes faster than the oven, which is six minutes faster than my watch, but only four minutes faster than the clock on the dining room wall?
Here’s another thing: they expect us to drop him off outside. Outside! As in, not inside at his classroom. Outside, where there will be one teacher to watch over who knows how many kids on the play ground. No one to clock him in or take a ticket or get a sign-off from or whatever. We are just expected to drop him off at the school playground and expect that at 8:30 this teacher will be able to round up gobs of five and six year olds and herd them into their classrooms. Geez, I mean, what could POSSIBLY go wrong?
And also, school shopping. Dude. Shopping for school supplies is a test devised by the school system to determine how smart parents are, in order that they may place children in correlating and probably permanent class rankings. It is clearly a re-visitation of those math word problems that we all hated in school. Example: “Bobby needs three boxes of crayons, twelve pocket folders, one pair of scissors, one three-ring binder, two bottles of glue, twelve glue sticks and a box of markers in order to have a good school year and thus pave the way for a strong academic career and ensure that he does not end up panhandling on the east side off- ramp of I-95. Considering your budget, the value of your time, the price of gas, and your level of vulnerability to impulse purchases, determine the best way to purchase school supplies without going bat shit crazy.”
Seems simple enough.
I took that list to an office supply store and for approximately eleventy hundred dollars bought everything on the list. Done.
Then I went across the street to the grocery store for a gallon of milk and promptly discovered that I had failed that test.
Because that grocery store had all of those school supplies, only much cheaper. Box of crayons? Only $1.50 compared to $1.99. Glue sticks? $1.50 for a four pack compared to $3.99. I should have just bought a sticker that said “First time kindergarten mom” and also, “Chump”
So I returned to that office supply store, with three howling, hungry, impatient and ornery kids in tow. I got my money back. And then I returned to that grocery store with three howling, even hungrier, even more impatient and much more ornery kids in tow and re-bought those school supplies. Because, heh! I saved seven dollars, baby. I gloated all the way to the minivan.
But then.
Then I went to Target. It was a simple stop. We were there to look for shot glasses (don’t ask questions, just know that when you have three kids, you must own at least one, and preferably two, shot glasses) And you know what? They had crayons for $.40 a box. Hot damn! That’s like… fifty… no, seventy… crap. That’s like A LOT cheaper than $1.50. Did I buy them at Target and return them to the grocery store? Of course I did. Ha! Those suckers at Target. They sold me crayons for $.40 a box. I’d show them to you , but I can’t find them in the $200 worth of other stuff I didn’t need but bought anyway while I was there.
And then you know what? In yesterday’s paper, Toys R Us, which is only 38 miles away, is selling the SAME crayons for only $.25 a box. Holy crap! How can I stand by and allow myself to get ripped off by those guys at Target? If I only drive the forty minutes to get there, I could save, like, fifteen cents. Thirty cents on two! But, for some reason, Chris has hidden my car keys. And I can’t figure out how much money I would save if I called a taxi to get there…
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