So yesterday I went for a jog. While I was still in my neighborhood, I passed a kid putting pizza fliers on the doorknobs of each of the houses.
Our neighborhood is a deed-restricted, no soliciting neighborhood. Big signs at the front gate that say so. So my initial reaction was the desire to tell this kid that he can't do that here.
But then I looked at him. The kid was maybe 17. Fairly clean-cut. Wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt, carrying a backpack. I thought "Hey - the kid is just trying to earn some money." I mean, is it really the end of the world if I get a pizza coupon on my door? And this kid is working. He's not doing drugs or robbing gas stations. He's actually doing something productive. Most likely someone from the pizza place dropped him off and said "go flier this neighborhood", and he was just doing what he was told. Whatever the circumstances, at least he was doing something not involving criminal activity. So I smiled and said "good morning" and ran on by.
Then, about a half mile later, I thought..."Wait a minute. Shouldn't that kid be in SCHOOL right now?" Granted, I am in denial about my advancing years, and this makes me really bad at judging ages. But this kid looked young. I suppose there is a chance that he's a college student. If he had classes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, he would have had yesterday - Tuesday - off to work.
Which leads me to the people selling stuff at the entrances to grocery stores. I always buy from kids selling stuff at store entrances, and here's why. Once I was walking into a WalMart, and I saw a group of kids selling candy bars for their baseball team. If you haven't put kids in Sports programs lately, let me tell you - it's expensive. Especially if it's a regional or travelling team. Expensive. Anyway, while I was walking in (I was going to get some cash at check out and buy some candy on the way out...) the kids smiled and asked this old man if he would like to support their baseball team. The old man CHEWED THEM OUT. Yelled at them about bothering people and why don't they go work to earn that money. His rant went on for several minutes. The kids, who were maybe 9 or 10 years old, were stunned, as was the adult that was with them.
I was embarassed. I mean, here are some kids who are participating in sports. Sports and other activites are proven to help keep kids out of trouble and keep their grades up. After school and on Saturdays, they are on the ball field instead of loitering around causing trouble, or going brain-dead in front of video games. On this day, they were simply trying to sell some candy to offset some of the expenses of their team. Why is that so bad?
Bart is worse than I am. If you are a kid selling something, be it for school or scouts or your sports team, come to our house. Bart will buy anything from a kid. A few months back he bought a Dominos pizza discount card for $20, and we hate Dominos pizza. He will cause a 5 car pile-up to stop at a kid's lemonade stand.
The point here is these kids are doing something productive, so why not support them if you can? Or, at a minimum, be polite? Even if you don't want the $20 pizza card, you can always give the kids a $2 donation.
Which leads me to the car wash. Bart and I are also fans of fundraising car washes. Again, it is usually kids raising money for their sports teams, band, etc. They are outside with people in broad daylight (which can be rare for teenagers.) I hate washing my car, so why not let the kids do it? I can almost always scrounge up $5 - sometimes in change - for a donation for a car wash. My biggest complaint? The signs. Make BIG SIGNS that tell me which team or cause you are fundraising for. If I really need a car wash, I'll stop for pretty much anyone. However, sometimes I don't need one, but if it's a cause near and dear to my heart (God bless you, band geeks...) I will get one anyway. Or make a donation.
Maybe I should get a flier job. Outside, in the sun, don't have to talk to anyone, can wear my Ipod. Exercise too. Hmmmm....
Welcome! Sometimes I am both amused and amazed at where I am in my life, and sometimes I just need a Margarita or a big ol' glass of Cabernet. Here's my attempt to apply self-therapy through blogging. (Plus it will cut down on the lengthy texts I keep sending to my closest friends...)
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
I Am Tricky, Hear me Roar
My favorite holiday of the year is Halloween. I love the candy, the costumes, the pumpkins - all of it. It's the best.
My 2nd favorite holiday may be St. Patrick's Day. I'm not sure it used to be my 2nd favorite. I mean, it's great and all. I have Irish heritage. I've been to Ireland. I like green beer and Guiness and Irish Coffee. Goofy green clothes and sunglasses and beads. It's all good.
But then last year I became part of an alter-ego. I say "part" because I am not him alone.
Tricky is a leprechaun. A particularly troublesome one who likes to create havoc and mischief in Mrs. Harrison's Kindergarten Class. Last year I was recruited to help Tricky with his work. I arrived at the school at 6:00 am (Starbucks in hand for me, and the other half of Tricky, mrs. Harrison). Tricky then proceeded to do all kinds of damage. He turned the toilet water green. He turned the milk green. He left green little leprechaun footprints all over when he got into the finger paint. He left little pots of gold for each child. He vandalized the dry erase board with catchy little things like "Tricky Wuz Here". He turned all the chairs over and rearranged pretty much everything. I have never had so much fun in my life.
And then? I got to bring Chase back to school and see the kids responding to Tricky's havoc. Ab.So.Lute.Ly. Priceless.
Little did I know that Tricky had also been across the courtyard in Mrs. Kasper's first grade class. You see, Mrs. Kasper's daughter Olivia had been in mrs. harrison's class the year before Chase was. So the Tricky tradition continued and grew.
So this year I get to do double Tricky duty. Tricky already sent green pencils to the teachers that say "Tricky Wuz here!" Today, Tricky sent letters to both classes, daring them to catch him and hinting at the mass chaos he's going to bring on Thursday.
This year Tricky is replacing all of the color posters on the walls with green ones. He's replacing all of the desk name tags with ones that say "Tricky". he's even going to replace the American Flag with a St. Patrick's Day one (but just for the one day.) And his little paint footprints may extend outside this year, leading from one class to the other.
Being Tricky is one of those weird little experiences that you never dream you will have when you have kids. But to anyone out there who isn't Tricky: be your own Leprechaun. Finf some kids somewhere and make their day.
Lord knows only too soon we grow up and have to deal with Taxes and Tsunamis and Nuclear Meltdowns. Right down the road is safe sex and drugs and alcohol.
But for now - for just one day - they can BELIEVE. They can believe that there really are Leprechauns who play tricks on you and leave you little treats and defy caputure year after year after year.
We can all be Tricky to someone. So get out there and turn some toilet water green!
My 2nd favorite holiday may be St. Patrick's Day. I'm not sure it used to be my 2nd favorite. I mean, it's great and all. I have Irish heritage. I've been to Ireland. I like green beer and Guiness and Irish Coffee. Goofy green clothes and sunglasses and beads. It's all good.
But then last year I became part of an alter-ego. I say "part" because I am not him alone.
Tricky is a leprechaun. A particularly troublesome one who likes to create havoc and mischief in Mrs. Harrison's Kindergarten Class. Last year I was recruited to help Tricky with his work. I arrived at the school at 6:00 am (Starbucks in hand for me, and the other half of Tricky, mrs. Harrison). Tricky then proceeded to do all kinds of damage. He turned the toilet water green. He turned the milk green. He left green little leprechaun footprints all over when he got into the finger paint. He left little pots of gold for each child. He vandalized the dry erase board with catchy little things like "Tricky Wuz Here". He turned all the chairs over and rearranged pretty much everything. I have never had so much fun in my life.
And then? I got to bring Chase back to school and see the kids responding to Tricky's havoc. Ab.So.Lute.Ly. Priceless.
Little did I know that Tricky had also been across the courtyard in Mrs. Kasper's first grade class. You see, Mrs. Kasper's daughter Olivia had been in mrs. harrison's class the year before Chase was. So the Tricky tradition continued and grew.
So this year I get to do double Tricky duty. Tricky already sent green pencils to the teachers that say "Tricky Wuz here!" Today, Tricky sent letters to both classes, daring them to catch him and hinting at the mass chaos he's going to bring on Thursday.
This year Tricky is replacing all of the color posters on the walls with green ones. He's replacing all of the desk name tags with ones that say "Tricky". he's even going to replace the American Flag with a St. Patrick's Day one (but just for the one day.) And his little paint footprints may extend outside this year, leading from one class to the other.
Being Tricky is one of those weird little experiences that you never dream you will have when you have kids. But to anyone out there who isn't Tricky: be your own Leprechaun. Finf some kids somewhere and make their day.
Lord knows only too soon we grow up and have to deal with Taxes and Tsunamis and Nuclear Meltdowns. Right down the road is safe sex and drugs and alcohol.
But for now - for just one day - they can BELIEVE. They can believe that there really are Leprechauns who play tricks on you and leave you little treats and defy caputure year after year after year.
We can all be Tricky to someone. So get out there and turn some toilet water green!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Should I Stay or Shoud I Go....
In my husband's exact words: "I don't want to stay in this house forever. I want to live in a house that makes me feel like I'm on vacation."
In my words: "I want my kids to go to Dunedin Highlands Middle School and Palm Harbor University High School."
In my realtor's words: "You're screwed."
OK - so she didn't really say that. What she did do was give me a possible sales price for our home, and it ain't pretty. We would maybe break even, but there's no way we could make enough to put a nice sized down payment on a new place. A place on the water. In the right school district. With neighborhood boat facilities.
Which is really depressing if you think about it. We didn't even buy at the peak - we bought right as the peak started up. It seems really unfair that after paying on this house for 6 1/2 years, we're only about $6,000 up. And that's before you factor in the pool Purchase. I really feel for the people who DID buy at the peak. How the hell are they supposed to manage the finances on that?
So the house may be the perfect house for us. It os across the street from the Gulf, with Gulf access in front of the house. It's the right size. The right location. Has cool features.
Of course, it's also un-Godly expensive.
Then there's the whole do-we-change-the-kid's-schools-now-and-move-them-away-from-their-friends-and-make-them-find-new-Scout-Troops thing. Granted, the house is only about 12 miles from our house now as the crow flies. But still.
You think maybe if we wait a few years, things will balance out better financially, right? Except that if OUR house increases in value, so will the house we are trying to buy. And once the kids are in college we may not even be able to afford to move, with paying the damned Harvard and Duke tuitions.
So we wait until the kids are out. That would be about 15 years from now. Making me 55. Too old to enjoy it.
There's no easy solution. Part of me feels if you don't aim high, how will you ever get there? But Bart is level-headed, and says it's a poor financial move.
He always says "Life is long - we can find our dream house in a few years." I say life is SHORT, and you have to scratch and claw to get what you want while you can.
Maybe I shoudl go buy a Lottery Ticket.
In my words: "I want my kids to go to Dunedin Highlands Middle School and Palm Harbor University High School."
In my realtor's words: "You're screwed."
OK - so she didn't really say that. What she did do was give me a possible sales price for our home, and it ain't pretty. We would maybe break even, but there's no way we could make enough to put a nice sized down payment on a new place. A place on the water. In the right school district. With neighborhood boat facilities.
Which is really depressing if you think about it. We didn't even buy at the peak - we bought right as the peak started up. It seems really unfair that after paying on this house for 6 1/2 years, we're only about $6,000 up. And that's before you factor in the pool Purchase. I really feel for the people who DID buy at the peak. How the hell are they supposed to manage the finances on that?
So the house may be the perfect house for us. It os across the street from the Gulf, with Gulf access in front of the house. It's the right size. The right location. Has cool features.
Of course, it's also un-Godly expensive.
Then there's the whole do-we-change-the-kid's-schools-now-and-move-them-away-from-their-friends-and-make-them-find-new-Scout-Troops thing. Granted, the house is only about 12 miles from our house now as the crow flies. But still.
You think maybe if we wait a few years, things will balance out better financially, right? Except that if OUR house increases in value, so will the house we are trying to buy. And once the kids are in college we may not even be able to afford to move, with paying the damned Harvard and Duke tuitions.
So we wait until the kids are out. That would be about 15 years from now. Making me 55. Too old to enjoy it.
There's no easy solution. Part of me feels if you don't aim high, how will you ever get there? But Bart is level-headed, and says it's a poor financial move.
He always says "Life is long - we can find our dream house in a few years." I say life is SHORT, and you have to scratch and claw to get what you want while you can.
Maybe I shoudl go buy a Lottery Ticket.
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