An Angry Goose in My Kitchen and Other Reasons I Hate School Fundraisers

Since Connor is in the first grade, this is only our second year of school fundraisers.  It might be our last.  Not because I don’t want to raise money for them, because I do.  They work really, really hard for our kids, and they need all the extra money they can bring in.  I just think there must be an easier way to do this.

Our school’s PTA has chosen cookie dough, pies, and mini pizzas as the must-have items.  I already find the whole process awkward to begin with.  I bring the catalog and order form to work, and pass it among my co-workers, fully aware that we’re in a sucky economy and that spending $14 on a vat of cookie dough is not a priority for most people.  But still, I deliver my sales pitch, complete with my patented doe-eyed stare that silently wills people to support our school by purchasing these overpriced snacks.

And don’t forget, the kids earn PRIZES for selling this stuff, even though the kids never sell this junk to begin with, it’s the parents that do all the work.  Connor doesn’t even understand the concept of “fundraiser”, he just sees the glossy pictures of M&M cookies and tells me he wants THOSE.

The order form and money were turned in, and last week Connor came home with an array of junky plastic items.  He doesn’t even know why he got them, he just thinks that today was “Loud Annoying Plastic Horn Day”.

No, really.  It was a horn.  The kind that looks like he’s summoning the commoners to come and kneel before the King.  Like this:

But it didn’t have a flag.

On Saturday morning, I was in the kitchen at 7:20 a.m., looking around for something with caffeine, when behind me I heard this very, very loud “HOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!”  Keep in mind that this horn does not sound at all like a horn, but sounds more like a very angry male goose, with a deep goose-voice, about to jump on your head and peck your eyes out.

Will eat your liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti.

So I heard this, sans caffeine, and I did one of those startled jumps that people do, where your body kind of jerks and stiffens, but when I did it, I heard this errrrrk sound in my back, and had a very sore lower back the rest of the day.

What I thought was happening in my kitchen, but really wasn't.

It’s embarrassing to explain to your first grader that they cannot blow their goose-horn early in the morning because Mommy is so old and decrepit that it causes me physical pain when he blows the horn.  And all the while I’m thinking, fuck you, PTA…you couldn’t have quiet prizes like bouncy balls and play-doh?

Then the fundraiser orders came in, and I had to pick them up from the school.  Two big boxes of stuff that I had to take home at the end of the day and play Tetris to fit it all in the freezer in the kitchen, and the one in the garage.

But then, THEN I get to haul it all to work.  And I left one woman’s box of dough at home because I thought I heard her say she was on vacation all week.  But I get to work, and NO, she is not on vacation.  She is here, so I have to explain why I didn’t bring hers, and I will bring it tomorrow.  But her co-worker IS on vacation this week, so I had to put her dough in the freezer in the cafeteria kitchen, and hope that one of these mutant cubicle zombies doesn’t swipe it before the end of the day when I can transport it BACK TO MY HOUSE and back to my freezer until next week.

And all that is why at the next PTA meeting I will be suggesting that next year’s fundraiser is wrapping paper.  It’s lightweight, portable, and easy to store.  I know they’ll listen to me because I’m going to blow that fucking goose-horn to get their attention.