Volunteer/Slave Labor Hours

Don’t get me wrong, I like volunteering at my children’s various schools, but there comes a time when even I begin to question this use of time.

I like working in the high school candy store once a month, I get to know the kids and their peculiar habits and of course I can keep up on the latest fashions. I check out who is hanging with whom and I do not make eye contact, EVER, with my own children.  It is their strict rule. 

Elementary school is a bit dicier. Who the heck knows how to operate a book binder? Obviously the second grade teacher, but not her college educated volunteer. Why do the kindergarteners need free time? Somehow I am always in charge during free time and a lot of shouting usually ensues. Kindergarten teacher is always desperate for help so she ignores my shouting and strangely enough the kids still seem to like me at the end of my enforced labor. Then there is the day trip to the dreaded Puyallup Fair, where I somehow always end up with the “runners,” kids who are gone in the blink of an eye. When I question the smiling kindergarten teacher about this, she gives me the look. I should know how to control runners, after all I have two boys. Can only nod.

My youngest is now in sixth grade. Things are looking good as far as volunteer opportunities..........That is to say; I have no responsibilities as the kids seem to manage on their own. Seem to have forgotten that Sixth grade is the year that the kids go to camp; Sixth grade parents supplement camp costs by selling pizza school-wide every Friday. Two parents are required for this thankless job.  I am filled with dread. Friday is tennis day, Friday is a relaxing day for shopping, and Friday is my last day of freedom before called upon to attend sporting events throughout the weekend. Friday is pizza day.

My first pizza adventure left me not only spending three hours in the school kitchen (forced labor) but to add indignity to the entire event.........I had to pay for the pizza for the entire school. The always-harassed secretary had neglected to get a check from the principal before she left for a meeting. So I worked for free and paid for pizza for three hundred and twenty little student/animals. I did have a pizza pal who was most amusing and made the time go quickly. Harassed secretary did pay me back at the end of the day with profuse apologies.

I have decided to post a sort of wanted list of pizza beggars.  Three or four students are regulars. “Do we have any leftovers?” “What about that one on the plate?” “How about some cookies, I didn’t eat breakfast; my piece of pizza is too small.” Threaten various children with possible snapshot taken of them begging. Will then post snapshot for all parent pizza volunteers to peruse. Children are nonplussed and continue begging. Amusing friend gives in to beggars and I chastise her, she says I am heartless. I tell her pizza beggars are rude and probably smell bad too. During a break we run over to kindergarten class room and deliver pizza to exhausted looking teachers. Kindergarteners follow (they are at recess). They pester us with questions and hang on our legs. They are complete savages. Shake them off and pound on door, teacher peers out and lets us in, shutting door in children’s grubby faces. She says she can tell an adult knock from a child/savage knock.  We head back to the kitchen to clean up the mess and discuss working another pizza day.  Only three months left in Sixth grade school year or approximately twelve Pizza Fridays.