Come with me to Gingerbread Hell…

 

Come with me to Gingerbread HELL… Dec 12, ’08 7:50 PM
for Mel ‘s network

 

What is wrong with me people?  Why, oh WHY, when that little slip of paper comes home with Carsten, detailing some sorted chaperoning opportunity, do I think it is a GOOD IDEA to volunteer myself?

Oh yes.  That’s right.  Oops, I did it again!

So, picture it…. four 2nd grade classrooms, walking gleefully towards the cafeteria, teachers wheeling carts full of gingerbread houses (constructed around milk cartons last week), and one Mommy dragging her feet and thinking, w? t? EFF? am I doing here?????  (There were other mommies and daddies there too, I was just the only one that looked like she was about to make a run for it.)

We get to the cafeteria, and the full horror of my decision hits me.  I realize EACH kid is carrying their own baggy of melty sticky items… skittles, gummy bears, licorice, chocolate chips…. GAH!  Oh, but wait… it gets worse.  One each table there are three bowls overflowing with icing.  Three bowls… for TEN kids…. I remind myself to breathe.  SURELY they will be providing plastic utensils?  Maybe plastic gloves?   I would wear a plastic bodysuit and mask at this point if someone handed me one.

Then they announce that they are in fact using their FINGERS.  I nearly pass out.  I say out loud (accidentally), “Oh.  Oooooh.  I should probably just leave NOW.”

But, I don’t leave.  I stay.  Because I am stupid like that.

Before the master of services for the gingerbread events let’s them start “decorating” he makes another important announcement… it is ok to snack on their sticky/melty items while they decorate. 

So, let me get this straight.  Stick finger in icing… decorate… stick finger in mouth to eat a candy corn/skittle/m & m…. stick finger back into icing…..

GAH!  Somebody stab me now.

My volunteer helper at our table is a clueless Dad that was hilarious in the “he doesn’t know I am laughing at him and not with him” way.  He started EVERY sentence with, “Can I just make a suggestion…. ”  that the marshmallows would be good over here… that the icing is best applied this way… that you decorate with just one finger…. that chocolate chips make the best shingles…  It was like he just went through a Dr. Phil smackdown in which he learned the ONLY way to talk to children was to start EVERY sentence with, Can I just make a suggestion? 

FINALLY a spunky little redhead said, “mister, that is how YOU like it but that isn’t how SHE likes it!”  I said, again out loud and accidentally, “OoOoH SNAP!!” 

But, don’t cry for Clueless Dad, Internets!  It wasn’t even one minute later when I heard him say,Can I just make a suggestion… again.

Mid-point in Gingerbread Hell, I could not take a SINGLE. STEP. without something crunching under my boot.  This candy carnage on the floor went sooo way beyond my normal limits to tolerate crunchy things beneath my feet.  I had so many Skittles stuck to my boot at one point I was walking lop-sided.

WHY did I not stop to fix my boot?  Ummmm, that would be because there was ICING every where and I had made it MY personal mission to eliminate AS. MUCH. ICING. AS. POSSIBLE. from children, and surfaces, and children and also surfaces, oh and also children.

NEVER MIND that to DO this I had to talk my way through a panic attack by repeatedly dumping a rag into the BUCKET of COLD water they so kindly provided for us to “CLEAN” with.  Someone call me crazy, but how does dipping my rag into a bucket of water to clean off the bits makes it ANY CLEANER when the water is ALREADY filled with BITS from other people dipping!

Finally the teacher said there were only five minutes left…. I didn’t bother really asking if they were done… it went like this:

Me – “HI SWEETIE!  ARE YOU DONE?

Kid – *inhales in order to reply

ME – “WHY YES YOU ARE!!! IT LOOKS SUPER!!!  LET ME JUST TAKE THAT FOR YOU!!!!!!!”

I’m sorry.  Was I shouting?  I think I had a flashback.

Anyway… then it was over.  Thanksweetbabyjesus the school is about TWO minutes away from my house, because I did a 911 drive home so that I could swifter something ASAP. 

((Turns out swiftering wasn’t enough, I swiftered, then swifter wet-jetted and then vacuumed…. and THEN I felt better.))

OH!  I almost forgot to mention!  Carsten’s gingerbread house did an OCD Mommy proud!  Even WITHOUT my help (wondering why I was busy? Re-read paragraphs above) she had the same amount of candy corns on each side of her side walk, same amount of windows on each side of the house AND the gumdrop bushes were the same on every side of her house TOO.  Granted, her shingles weren’t symmetrical, but I can’t expect too much yet… she is only seven.

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