Tuesday, September 8, 2009

PTA? FU.

I joined the PTA last week. This was a decision I stewed over for a couple of months before finally giving in. It kind of went against my beliefs, however, in the end it was a decision made for my son, not me. It will be something to hold over his head as he gets older anyway, like childbirth. (He's only five and I have already told him that I went through immense pain for him.) I am thinking that guilt trip came from my Italian heritage that day. It rears its ugly head once in a while.

Anyway, this PTA stuff is so dorky it turns my stomach. They sent home a flyer, well, actually, about ten or 15 pages of info that we were to fill out and pay up. So there was a list of activities that we are lucky enough to sign up for and they actually, and completely seriously, said, "Work the game table at family night. You'll be like a cool celebrity wearing your money apron. The kids will love it." Oh, I'm sure they will. They will love it the same way I love seeing an old man with black socks and garters, or when my boyfriend sees a guy wearing cut-off jean shorts, or Jorts. It will be an early Christmas for sure.

That had to be written by the PTA genius that gave a speech one day to a crowd of parents about how effective and responsible they are for the good children of the school district. Since I am a space cadet, I didn't know the kids were supposed to be playing and having fun in the kindergarten classroom while we listened to the awful hour long sermon. My son sat with me through this whole presentation and not one person, not the V.P. of the PTA, nor the principal, or any of the other guest lecturers bothered to tell us he should be with the other kids. Clearly, I was there to draw pictures and play paper, scissors, rocks to entertain my son. Seriously. It was fate that this happened anyway; we got home and the nurse called to tell us they found a lice infested child in the kindergarten room and invited us for a comb-through. Thank God for the PTA.

I still have no idea why I signed up. I am guessing it's because I will go more unnoticed as the worst attended PTA parent, rather than the one who didn't join at all. My neighborhood, no, my school district is like a John Hughes movie. It's picture perfect on the outside and a well maintained, well kept secret disaster on the inside. The kids are pretty and well dressed, though, so that's all that really matters.

I was also thinking that it has to be the most organized, socially acceptable gossip network around. The minute my son screws up if I don't already know about it, it won't be long till I do. These tennis playing, SUV driving women have a larger, more effective network than Perez Hilton himself. The next 13 years could be the most annoying of my life. I think I am going to turn it around and be the Bad News Bear version of the PTA moms. It will be free entertainment.

1 comment:

Deens said...

LOVE THE PIC OF YOU AND YOUR BOY!!!
xoxo