Ben starts school again in a couple of weeks, this time as a big old first grader, which is actually aging Dave more than it’s aging me (this happens to be a first). With the almost 6 year old age has come the almost 6 year old attitude which is_getting_old.
I actually found myself in an arguement with Ben recently regarding the actual need for roller skates in order to rollerskate. I was suprisingly pro, he anti. What was mainly interesting about this interaction was that I am all but convinced that I had partoketh in this converasation previously, with his father, the king of “Well, actually, Becky…” conversations. If I were to mention that the sky happened to be blue today, he’d come up with all kinds of charts and graphs to prove “Well, actually, Becky the sky is green.” Or yellow. Or motherfucking pink. Needless to say, I find this to be incredibly grating.
With the addition of actual school has come the need for school supplies, something I had expected to relish buying. Until I realized that Ben’s school has ALWAYS requested that we purchase things like “snorth-fibber queesile grinder,” in a delicate azure. Never an easy purchase, now made way more difficult than necessary by the school.
Of the approximately 105 item checklist, I have now only acquired a handful of items. The rest seem to elude me. Where exactly does one purchase a (and I am not kidding here) 3 subject, plastic cover, wide rule, red notebook? According to the worker that I enlisted to help me, they don’t have them in red. At least at Target.
I guess it’s a good thing that I started early, but I am seriously considering suggesting that the school purchase said items for us and WE WILL PAY THEM DIRECTLY. Hell, considering the extreme amount of gas I will have to buy to head to 1,984 stores to find their blasted MEAD BRAND ONLY!!!!! composition book, I’d be willing to pay more than retail price. And for a cheap ass like me to say so, it must be bad.