2 posts tagged “parents”

If you have a kid in preschool or grade school, high school, scouts, sports, whatever, you probably, as we do, have to contend with a shitload of fundraising activities.  Sellathons, jogathons, walkathons, bookathons, spring carnival, cookie dough sales...(drum roll) the ubiquitous silent auction etc .  And there's no way around it, I know, you know, we all know.  So Jim and I got to talking about what hot item really might sell, create a stir, pull in some real cashola.  And we thought, well, what about a calendar, you know, "Moms of such-and-such School"?  Nothing X-rated or offensive, just, like, moms in bikinis doing...whatever.  We brought the idea to a couple working mom friends.  They laughed, then suggested a 'Dads of same-such-school' calendar.  Even better idea.  Which got us to thinking about, you know, layout...format.  January: Jet Propulsion Lab dad (our kids go to school in Pasadena) in boxers with a bunsen burner, February:  Straight-laced-suit lawyer dad in a Speedo and suspenders in a courtroom diorama, March:  Real Estate dad meeting clients at a house...waving, naked-but-tastefully-hidden-from-the-hips-down behind his Toyota Prius--and as long as we're talking tasteful--photographer dad with his Sony cam hanging at exactly groin length (and nothin' else), writer dad sitting at a desk or in a coffee shop wearing only his laptop.  Come on, go with it.  Try just planning it with a friend at your kid's school next time the annoying and mundane starts dragging you down, making you cranky.  You'll come up with images for days that will, at least, make you laugh aloud on the way to yet another fundraising extravaganza. 

Happy May Day.

I'm starting to think that this 'reality' thing is going to be a theme with me. 

I pick up my six year old after school with her 'date' for the afternoon, a very quiet, sweet little guy, Danny, also in Kindergarten.  First thing A says to me is "I told Danny how we usually fly home, Mom.  Okay?  Right?"  Danny giggles.  "Right, Mom?  We usually fly so could we just do it?"

This is where I usually grapple with the reality thing.  "Fly?  In the sky?  You mean in this car?" 

"Yeah.  Remember?"

"Right.  Okay.  Only I just saw a policeman on a motorcycle and I think he's giving out tickets to all the flying cars today."

"Mom.  We're flying over him.  Remember?  He won't catch us."  She says in a voice much too dry for someone her age (Also her assurance that the cop won't catch us could really disturb me if I let it)

I drive about a mile when A says, "So when are we going to fly?"

"We just did.  Didn't you see it?  We were going so fast.  Danny saw it, right Danny?

Danny giggles again, looks from me to A and back to me again, then says, tentatively, "Yeah."

"Mom, we're still in the sky.  You see?  We're surrounded by clouds.  You see, Danny?  I told you so."

Now I'm wondering how fucked up Danny is going to think this all is.  What will he tell his parents, I wonder.  Do his parents do as much kidding and storytelling as we do?  Does he still believe in Santa Claus or is his family one of those that stresses the importance of reality vs. fantasy after the age of three?  On one hand I secretly hope that my daughter's or son's imagination will continue to soar and give way to some lucrative rewarding career in the arts or scientific invention, and on the other hand I wonder, "Will my daughter's 'stories' morph in ten years into "that's not my bong, Mom.  Amy left it here."  See?  I'm always getting ahead of myself.  Relax, I whisper aloud.  Relax, Karen.  It's just a flying car for Chrissake.