No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
In an effort to be an engaged and involved parent, as I have generally been throughout my daughter’s life, I attempted to attend my first PTA meeting today.
It seems, however, that once again the gods were conspiring against me and I didn’t heed the warning signs:
• Torrential rain - Yes, when it’s raining so hard you can barely see 10 feet in front of you, screw the meeting. Pick up your child and go home. Also do not worry that if you don’t attend you will not be “walking the walk” in relation to all the times you bitched about this school having an under-active PTA. Nobody will even notice. Just go home. You can be a martyr some other time.
• When you reach the meeting and nobody can tell you if the 12 piles of papers (I counted) on the sign-in table are for attendees or not, you may want to just hightail it out of there because this is clearly not an organized meeting that will start soon and end expeditiously. If you decide, against your better judgment to stay, do not try to engage the very brusque and unfriendly woman to your left who hints that your older child shouldn’t take up a seat because there are clearly more adults than chairs.
• When your one yr old decides that instead of sitting quietly in your lap he’d rather make a bunch of noise, squirm and kick his shoes off, you should not stay at the meeting that still hasn’t started. No. You should depart because it’s all downhill from that point.
Downhill? Yes. You see, after doing his hooting, squirming and shoe removing routine, your one yr old proceeds to run down the aisle, leaving a faint whiff of something. Could it be…? Why yes! It’s poop! Smart mom that you are, you decide this is a great (and very valid) reason to leave…except you still have to pay for your daughter’s book fair selection.
As you put the squirming boy down to write a check, he runs off and a kindly teacher intercepts him, poopy diaper and all (which she may not yet be aware of), and offers to hold him while you write a check. While you are grateful, all you can think about is the caustic poop he produced the day before, courtesy of his antibiotics for the weird thing on his finger. Fearing a blistery diaper rash, you forgo the nice lady’s offer to hold him so you can partake in the meeting and you finally leave.
When you get to the car to fetch your diaper bag (because you love to learn your lessons the hard way and refuse to bring it with you ever), you decide against finding a bathroom to change the baby’s diaper because it’s too far away. You decide instead to recline the front seat of the momvan and do it right there. While hustling and doing your damnedest to get the evil fiery acid poop off his skin, it starts pouring again and you have no hands free to hold an umbrella. Your back, butt, legs, shoes and the back part of your freshly blow dried hair are getting soaked. Great.
Finally, you finish and you walk around to your door just in time for a truck to come roaring past you on the street. You move quickly but not quickly enough. A big splash of water soaks the front of the momvan along with your legs, feet and leather sandals. You’re now 3/4 soaking wet.
Will you ever learn?
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Oct 30, 2007: effexor xr













So, this is what I have to look forward to? Hmmmm…
Some things are just doomed from the start.
Being the selfish bitch that I am, the part that really chaps my ass is your freshly blown hair getting wet. The horror!!
OK…is it wrong that I laughed at this?
I just attended my first PTA meeting last week that sounded bizarrely like this…hmmm…..disaster from start to finish
Yes, the horror! Moms with 1-year-olds hardly ever find the time for a blow job… I mean dry.
PTA = Pain in The ASS (okay, close enough).
What a yucky day!
It was a bugger of a storm, wasn’t it? Sorry for the unfortunate timing for you. I was at Publix.
Hey You are one of my kindred spirits….
The only thing that would be better is ifyour blouse somes unbuttoned in meeting and you do not notice until you go outside where the cool air reaches your well… breasts…
hold your head up high sista….
walk tall…
and know that you… you… are in a most select class…
I try to say that ever so often…
My first post EVER was about how I just NEVER get it together…(Luckily? my daughter of 8years of age has NOT noticed…)
We would have welcomed your family at our PTA meetings, since usually only five of us show up.
We would have helped you clean up said poop and then all agreed that we needed to go out for a drink.
I think I want to join sweatpantsmom’s PTA.
You have a momvan, right? Is there a flat space on the floor somewhere that can be used as a changing table, while the three of you are protected from the elements?
I know that day! I have lived that day! Major Suckage.
Ugh. One of those days ineed!! All valid points about when to cut your money and run. Very funny.
Lisa
alas…the first warning sign might have been the PTA itself…whoa.
ugh. It sounds like my attempt to go to the “family meeting” for Sunday school. Except I was spared both the poop and the rain, so you definitely win this one.
I would’ve FOR SURE had poop all over me too.
You scored some serious mom cred with that day. You get points in my book for not turning around immediately once you got there.
Too freaking funny.
Sorry, it’s just I had to change a very shitty nephew this afternoon at the doc’s office and a similar experience happened to me. And I managed to get shit all over me, my car and the back of his jacket. I rock.
Oh, and what’s better, is tomorrow night I have to attend my PTA meeting where the president of the council is my brother in law who is a wife beating bastard and hates my guts. Because I have a brain. And a mouth. And he can’t control me. All of this and my 5 month old nephew gets to come along to watch the fireworks.
Good times, Izzy. Good times.
ugh.
oh, sugar. what a bullshit experience.
Ok you are freaking me out! I still have 3 years … Need to toughen up! Be Prepared!
I’m not sure what is worse–having to deal with a poopy diaper during the PTA meeting or having your freshly blow-dryed hair messed up by the rain. But good for you for going to the PTA meeting at all. Hopefuly, it will be easier next time!
Oh hell, that’s awful — what a day! I can’t wait for my turn…
Damn Damn double damn. I hate those meetings. Hope you got his diaper off in time to save his bum.
If we can send a man to the moon, why can’t we invent a poopless baby?
I never learn, that’s for sure. The same things happen over and over again.
Ugh, I hate those days when I wonder why I ever bothered to get out of bed and get dressed…
I’ll be back this evening when I have the time to read the links below and maybe the brain power to think a bit (though I can’t prmise).
Knowing my luck, the one year old would have continued having explosive poop and I would have been covered in poop AND wet.
Still, what a sucky day!
Poor Izzy! You get bonus good mommy points for this one.
Rosie seems to always know when I don’t have the diaper bag with me, because that’s when she will end up with the smelliest and messiest poopy diaper ever. Yuk.
Hope you had a nice cup of warm (and spiked?) coffee after this.
We have these stupid captain’s chairs and they don’t slide back or anything so no, unfortunately, there’s no room for me back there. It’s a sucky momvan.
I think I’d prefer five cool people to the 30 or so stiffs at this meeting.
Sometimes the only good thing about a day is that it’s over. I wanna put all the asshats in a spaceship and send them to mars.
Sounds like one hell of a day. Just be glad it’s over.
Really, I am laughing at…with you not at you!