So, I’m on my way to work the other morning when my son calls from school saying, “I forgot I was supposed to bring candy to school for my Careers class and if I don’t I’ll get a zero.”
After two minutes of sounding like one of the adults on the Peanuts cartoons (you know, wah, wah, wah) I let him know there was no way I could bring candy to the school and to try his dad.
Yes, I know… he should just suffer the consequences of being irresponsible and receive the zero; but in all honesty he hardly ever forgets stuff. There was only one other time last year when he forgot his lunch. I saw it on the counter and emailed his teacher saying I’d bring it up to school. She emailed back telling me he said it was okay and he’d just eat the school lunch.
I wish he’d do that every day because I hate making school lunches. Where’s the creativity in that? Slap something together between two pieces of bread? And I spend all my time looking for a container to put the sandwich in because I used the last baggie on yesterday’s lunch. Sometimes I get desperate and send in a sleeve of Ritz crackers and an almost empty family size bag of Cheetos held together by a gem clip.
But back to the forgotten candy.
I call my husband to see if he can rescue our son. And his response? “How can y’all let this happen?”
After more wah, wah, wah-ing, he said he was already late for work but he had a bag of Starlight peppermints in his car.
This would be worse than a zero. Either the 7th grade Careers class would have the best-smelling breath in the school or our son would have to spend the rest of the year living with the humiliation of passing out peppermints like a WalMart greeter. I decided to let the chips, er mints, fall where they may.
When he came home I asked how the peppermints went over.
Him, “I decided to sell high fives instead.”
Me, “High fives? As in actual physical high fives?”
Him, “Yep,” placing the unopened bag of peppermints on the counter.
He’s likely to receive a high five when his dad gets home. Down low.