Yesterday I received an email from a friend of mine. She is one of The Cool Moms. She has been involved with the PTA forever, yet she is not PTAnal. She grew up here, yet she is not really a Stepford. She is an anomaly. That is what she is, people. But that is not the point. I mean, when I get an email from this Mom Friend, it is usually hysterical, uplifting or an invite for a Mom’s Night Out. Suffice it to say, I love her emails.
So imagine the HORROR of receiving this email from her:
Jenn~
I will have the notebooks in the workroom this afternoon. Please pick them up at your convenience. ~Sydney
What? Excuse me?! Notebooks? Notebooks mean only one thing: You have been recruited by hell the PTA to chair something.Ohhhh , hell to the no, baby. I may be out of it and I may have been traveling so much that it takes me a good 5 minutes after I wake up to figure out what city I am in, but I know…I KNOW I did not sign up to be the chairman of anything PTA related.
I emailed back something intelligent along the lines of: “What? Huh? What the hell? Are you smoking crack??”
Apparently I have been assigned (they claim signed up for) the Party Room Parent for the 4th grade.
Let’s stop for a moment and think about this. Do they really want this? Do they really want me in charge of parties. For 4th graders? I will do totally take them to the bar. Or teach them all of the lyrics to “Don’t Cha” or whatever rap song is flinging “The F Word” around like flies off a horse’s ass. I will not resist the impulse to play Pin the Genitalia on the Model. In fact, if you will excuse me, I have to go print out some penises in preparation for the next classroom party.
—–