“It’s the most wonderful time of the yeeeeear!”
Back to school. Take 21 (grade 8 & 11 equals 21 years including kindergarten)
Counting my older two, that’s Take forty-freaken-seven… for ME.
King me… with a gold crown covered in chocolate Prozac sprinkles.
Damned straight I’m EXEMPT from any and all PTA, fundraising and other classroom fuct-tivities.
I’ve earned it.
Take a deep breath, my friends, because shit’s about to get REAL.
Forget the crisp fall air, hot cocoa and pumpkins. If you’re a parent of school age children, fasten your seatbelt, pop your sedative-of-choice and take a deep breath, because the extra fast spin cycle is about to commence.
School supply list; four 1.5 ” binders, 12 dividers with pockets, black music folder, colored pencils, locker shelf in pink and my favorite… the $100 graphing calculator. We’ve lost two. We’re not going to go THERE. Check.
*Note- this is only a tip-of-the-iceberg list.*
Password for grade portal… check. Funds transferred to lunch account… check. Vera Bradley lunchbox for days when they’re serving gross green hotdogs… check. *Note – No way am I buying the VB backpack. Just no. Repeat. Just no.
May the era of Superman and Barbie sneakers from Walmart rest in peace. Cha Ching$$
Mortgage sneakers… check.
Feel free to scribble all sports and activity schedules on my forehead with a Sharpie. It’s the only way I have a snowballs on the equator’s chance of possibly remembering what’s what and who’s where.
Kiddo’s, always carry your cellphone. Clarification. Carry your UNDEAD cellphone.
Also, I get three freebie oops-I-forgot-to-pick-you-ups before you can call social services or Nana.
On a similar and equally depressing note, college is far worse.
It’s a money-thing… or lack of money-thing would be more accurate.
As soon as you register, the college attaches a large vacuum hose to your bank account and SUCKS.
Even if your kid decides to ditch classes, blow off homework and become a festive decoration in the student center.
The sucking continues. And, I do mean sucking.
To add insult to injury, I happen to be a solar powered individual who resides in the north country.
I get my juice from the sun.
Good bye sunshine. Goodbye energy.
The temperatures will plummet, the beautiful blooms will perish and we’ll don our fat suits for hibernation.
I’m about to become one with the couch.
I so unlove winter.
This comes from the bottom of my heart…
Screw you, Autumn, and everything that’s NOT a pumpkin filled with tequila gummy bears.
Just screw you.