I So Deserve This, Part II

Okay, so I need to amend my earlier post about my Colonial Day food assignment. I told you I had to make Chicken Pie.

I read it wrong, perhaps because at least Chicken Pie, or a pot-pie, is in my realm of comprehension. But NO, my assignment is "Chicken Pudding." I feel so much better now.

I So Deserve This

It’s that time of year: class parties, sports practices, field trips, and “theme days.” At my very best, I do a fairly shoddy job at all of these things. And as you may recall, I’ve put myself on probation from all class parties because I become a raving lunatic. Other people’s kids irritate me, and I find myself shrilly lecturing them on baby Jesus’ sacrifice rather than keeping my mouth shut and handing out the juice boxes.

I try my best to costume my children for theme days, but both kids have admitted the results are spotty at best. I thought the King Tut costume I made with felt and a glue gun looked great, until I saw Cleopatra, Ramses, and the others.

The gecko I made was adorable—Hello? Ping-pong balls for eyes? A tail that attached and detached with Velcro? It was my crowning moment of motherhood, but Molly dismissed it saying she looked, “too cute.”

Birthday presents? Not so hot at those either. And tell me you’ve noticed that just like a bunch of spring lambs, there are many, many kids born this time of year. I feel like every time I turn around, it’s time to buy another gift. My kids frequently receive $25-30 gifts from peers at birthday parties, so the $10 I spend “Looks cheap-y Mom.”

Teacher gifts? I do better at this, chipping in for the collective cash gifts that make life easier. I don’t try to get creative or clever—still smarting these 30 years later from when my mother handed my teacher a pineapple—A PINEAPPLE! As a gift. I thought I would die.

Sooo, I’m skipping the kids’ Easter parties today (yes, at private school you can call it Easter), but I need to gear up for Colonial Day right around the corner. The fact that the costume I throw together will be crap is a given.

But yesterday we received the list of food to bring for the feast. Now I’m usually very lucky, and I get assigned something like “corn” or “plastic spoons.” I looked with pity on my friend Karen when she had to roast a whole turkey last year and have it delivered to the school by 11 a.m. She lamented the fact that she was out $50; I secretly wondered how she drew the short straw.

This year’s list has some nice and easy items like “drinks” or “bread of your choice.” I’d like you to look at what I’ve been assigned. Yep. "Chicken Pie." With 2-page recipe attached from the “American Girl Felicity Cookbook.” It’s no secret that my kid has been acting up in class lately. A lot. Touché, Mrs. Roberts, touché. I was a teacher for 7 years. I would have given me the Chicken Pie, too.