The flyer for the TAG (the gifted program for our school district) picnic looked innocuous enough,
For the students in the gifted program...
so I thought, "Sure, we'll go to the park, and I'll suck it up long
enough to make small talk with the other parents while the kids play
catch or get their faces painted or build bottle rockets or something.
Why not."
Well, I will tell you why not:
Eleventy billion people.
Inadequate parking.
Nowhere to put down the covered dish I was asked to bring.
No obvious place to put the toiletry donations I was asked to bring.
No one I could see to collect the dollar I was asked to bring.
I also forgot (a second time) to grab a blanket to sit on after I angrily trudged my deviled eggs back to the car.
Well, I will tell you why not:
Eleventy billion people.
Inadequate parking.
Nowhere to put down the covered dish I was asked to bring.
No obvious place to put the toiletry donations I was asked to bring.
No one I could see to collect the dollar I was asked to bring.
I also forgot (a second time) to grab a blanket to sit on after I angrily trudged my deviled eggs back to the car.
At least I knew where my towel was.
Okay, the blanket was on me,
but did I mention the pollen count?
And the eleventy billion people?
The event was an organizational disaster.
The phrase "monkey fucking a football" comes to mind.
Not exactly what I expected from the people leading our county's best and brightest...
Eventually, and by eventually I mean approximately eight minutes, my daughter found me, declared that she only found two people she knew and that the ant colony of kids on the play equipment made it impossible to actually play and that she wanted some deviled eggs. So she and I went to the car where she ate them while we debated whether we should go back into the fray for a drink or call it a day.
Bet you can't guess what we did.
but did I mention the pollen count?
And the eleventy billion people?
The event was an organizational disaster.
The phrase "monkey fucking a football" comes to mind.
Not exactly what I expected from the people leading our county's best and brightest...
Eventually, and by eventually I mean approximately eight minutes, my daughter found me, declared that she only found two people she knew and that the ant colony of kids on the play equipment made it impossible to actually play and that she wanted some deviled eggs. So she and I went to the car where she ate them while we debated whether we should go back into the fray for a drink or call it a day.
Bet you can't guess what we did.
The convenience store we stopped at on our way home had peach Nehi,
which made up for a lot.
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