We're all back to school! You can practically hear parental cheering (or dancing) in the streets. We’ve been doing a little countdown every day for weeks. Hewing to ancient and primitive hunter/gatherer traditions, Daddy-O returned from an expedition to Target for all the school supplies which I then organize and distribute. Along with a few random thoughts.
Get the lead out. Our list called for 48 pencils. Why so many? well, La Principessa is prone to chewing the eraser ends into twisted shards of tin, so maybe having tons of extras makes sense. Or maybe she's creating souvenirs. You know, like a Presidential signing ceremony. When the Commander in Chief signs a particularly notable law, he writes each letter of his name with a different pen – so that the Various Important People each can get a pen from the historic event. She has an, ahem, healthy sense of self -- maybe she's using her pencils for a few hours and then auctioning them off.
In the baggie. These seem like a curious item for a classroom although we do get periodic collections of random items sent home in Ziploc bags. These are the hardest items to hide properly so that they actually make it to school. La Principessa likes bags, any kinds of bags. She especially likes stuffing them with random found objects. Over the weekend, I spent 10 minutes looking for a particular pair of shoes only to find them hidden in a secret corner on a side porch. Inside was a sandwich bag stuffed with a baseball, foam Christmas stickers and a few pennies. There’s a message there but I’m not sure what it is.
Stuck on you. So I bought the 18 glue sticks but I admit, I'm old school. Kids today. They think they're too good to eat school paste. Now they need a compact, sanitary, individually-portioned adhesive!
Mark my words. A set of Sharpies. Permanent markers - nothing good can come of this. I once received an email from school: "Dear 'Mrs. La Principessa’s Mom,' Today La Principessa colored her best friend blue. Her friend was not amused.” And, indeed, the poor little friend’s entire arm and part of her face was a lovely azure. Luckily, my girl's handiwork was accomplished with the miracle tool of our age, washable markers. With filched Sharpies, I imagine La Principessa running a small underground pseudo-tattoo parlor at the back of the cafetorium. It also explains the need to supply wet wipes – she still thinks she can use them to remove her body art stylings.
A real cut-up. I understand needing to replenish paper, glue and pencils. but scissors? Why did I need to bring in 6 sets? I’m guessing that the reasoning here is we’ll all need weaponry when 3rd grade society descends into anarchy. When the school wide rioting breaks out she'll be amply prepared except against the 5th graders who have graduated to cutting implements that actually have a sharpened blade.
Getting carded. As always, I bought several packages of index cards. But i forgot to secure my secret supply stash and left the drawer open where she could see them. Equivalent to leaving the keys to Fort Knox hanging on a ring outside the guard shack. As I was racewalking around the dining room table to close the drawer, I finally noticed something sticking out from beneath the edge of a framed print across the room. Wait, they were everywhere. Tucked discreetly under a corner of each frame in everal rooms were index cards covered with wavy lines. (which is probably why she needs so many pencils at school.) I think she may be turning the first floor of the house into a gallery/coffee house/rave space when we’re at work. The rest of the cards must be in a bag hidden somewhere.