I had a flu shot yesterday – well technically the flu/H1N1 vaccine combo – and I think it made me cranky. Can they do that?
Or could it be from spending two days listening to D2 cough. Continually. Over and over and over and over and over, day and freaking night until it started to feel like a punch to the back of my head. Every. Single. Time.
No, I’m a loving mother who would never get annoyed at her children for being sick, so it must have been the shot.
Anyway, I had to go help sort chocolates after school yesterday. It was for D1’s band fundraiser. Yet another fundraiser, which really is a post all it’s own.
As I’m walking into the band building I was stopped by a mom whose daughter plays the same instrument as D2. She’s horribly competitive and wants to make sure we all know how wonderful her daughter is at this particular instrument. (I’d like to add here, that MY daughter is 1st chair – just a little aside that is completely irrelevant to the story).
It went something like this:
“Excuse me Annie, what school does the All City Wind Ensemble practice at?”
“That’s too far for me. I had to take H. to All State Band at B.S High School last year and that’s over there too.”
“It’s really only about a mile from here.”
“No, that’s too far. So practice is tonight at 6:30 or 7:00-something right?”
“No, it’s 6:15 and they start right on time.
“And is tonight the first one or is it next week?”
“It started last week and there was a mandatory parent meeting afterwards to pay fees and go over rules and the concert schedule.”
“Oh, well they really want G. to do it but I think her piano is more important. This is so inconvenient for me and doesn’t fit in my schedule at all but they really want her.”
“It just isn’t a good night for us but they really want her to play? I’m going to have to think this over because, did I mention they really want her to be a part of the ensemble? No, I don’t think this works for me at all. I don’t know why we have to have one more thing to do. My children are all so overbooked. We absolutely do not have room for even one more thing. This is really complicating things for me. I just don’t need this.”
“Ok, well good luck.”
Fast forward to my conversation with D1 later.
“So I talked to G’s mom afterschool about All City and she told me that they’re really begging G. to be part of wind ensemble.”
“No, not at all. They’re fine with it. They replaced her last week. The other girl already started and she’s great.”
“I thought we knew the practice night, time and place before auditions. Didn’t she know she wouldn’t be able to make it when she tried out?”
“Oh yeah, she knew she had piano on Tuesdays at the same time.”
“So she tried out anyway and took the spot the other kids wanted?”
“Yup, pretty much!”
“Why did she waste their time?”
“She didn’t want to. Her mom made her.”
* Tomorrow I’ll tell you about the mom who couldn’t count chocolates or follow directions. Hopefully it’ll be more interesting than this piece of crap I just wrote. Or maybe we’ll go with the story of the drunk lady at the weekend conference and her drunk husband who tried to get her to “release the boobies” at the dinner table. Preference? I think I’m leaning towards the boobies myself.