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Suburban Diva IPS Features |
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My three school-attending children jumped into the car last Friday, declaring what prizes they were going to win from our latest school fundraiser: wrapping paper. They listed out the fabulous prizes they could win. There were amazing prize incentives that came in a catalog glossier than the wrapping paper and other gift items we are supposed to be selling. “And if we sell over 200 items, we can get an iPod Touch!” I quickly did the math; 200 rolls of wrapping paper at $7 a roll multiplied by 3 kids and 78 rolls of Scotch tape adds up to about $37,000 for gadgets that run for 200 bucks a piece at Target. I was skeptical there were enough trees left in the rainforests for what they would need to sell. These sales incentives are fabulous for the kids, but we all know they are not the real salesmen in this--we parents are. School fundraisers are a 100% parental activity, just like science projects and thank you notes. Anyone that tells you differently should be working for the Nigerian Department of Fair Banking and Accuracy in Genealogy because they are selling you a big ole lie. So where are the parents’ incentives? Since it’s me hawking gift swag, shouldn’t it be me who gets the gift? We could start out small, say for 10 tins of cashews; they send someone to reach their arm into my garbage disposal to see what’s making that horrendous KACHUNK rattle. Or take care of another one of my least favorite jobs: changing the sheet in the crib. They never make one big enough, and I feel like I’m pulling down a temperamental window shade in a tornado for 45 minutes every time I make the bed. The more I sell, the bigger the prize. If I’m able to sell 50 blueberry scone mixes, I get to send the Internet Mafia over to a handful of idiot message board posters. They are allowed to rough up, Soprano-style, anyone who misspells “hypocrite,” or cites email chain letters as sources to their pathetic arguments. Failure to capitalize or use punctuation is subject to loss of the digits that allow them to use keyboards for evil. Okay, that was a little harsh. Maybe I need something to escape the pressures of everyday life, so the incentives should focus on more indulgent pursuits. When I reach the 100 item mark, I not only get a tank of gas (a retail value of $800) but we go old school and have an attendant pumping said gas and squeegeeing the windshield. At 150 items he has to get the watermelon Bubble Yum from the carpet. Cheese crock number 175 earns me dinner (at a place that doesn’t serve chicken fingers) and a (non-animated) movie. But if I manage to get to that magic 200+ item level--selling dozens of rolls of wrapping paper, gift bags, candles and pithy coffee mugs--then I get the Mac Daddy uber prize to top all other prizes… …Someone else has to sell my gross of wrapping paper next year.
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