Box Tops

A note that I sent to my two oldest daughters' teachers.

Dear Riena and Judy,

I know what both of you are thinking. "Seriously?! This lazy Mom just sent in Box Tops, without being amazing and painstakingly cutting them all out and adhering them to the appropriate sheets?!" I understand. I get it. I really do. However, here is how this evening has played out.

I came home, later than normal, as Thursdays are ballet/tap/gymnastics days for my big two. While it is only Thursday, and I work tomorrow, I have already worked close to 40 hours this week. (I allowed one of my pharmacists to take a vacation. I really need to stop allowing such nonsense.) Once we got home, we frantically did homework/reading, dinner, bath, and bed. (This was all while my two year old kept throwing Play-Doh everywhere, as I cursed my husband for working even later than I did, the past two nights in a row.)

I am exhausted, due to working 10 hour shifts every night this week, and I have not had time for much of anything. Once I got the big two down for the count, I went through their backpacks and remembered the damn BOX TOP WEEK! I went to my stash and found all my saved, roughly ripped from the package Box Tops. My OCD kicked in, immediately, so I started to neatly cut and trim them. (You will see them in the baggie.) However, after $4 or $5 worth of trimming, I decided I could go on no longer without some wine.

After having wine though, I realized, "$%^! THIS! I cannot possibly cut out a MILLION EFFIN' DOLLARS worth of Box Tops (and not just regular Box Tops, but the horrifying plastic ones that are ALL about static cling and will not get the hell off of you, much less into the bag in which you are trying to force them), without losing my damn mind!" Ergo, I just quit. (You will see those in the baggie, as well.) Yep! I said it. I QUIT! I do not have the mindset or capability to earn the Mother of the Year Award, this evening! I just cannot!

I am tired. It is TGIT TV night. The wine has kicked in. My hands are cramping from opening prescription vials all day, followed by trimming the smallest rectangles I have ever trimmed in my life! My mind is fried, from a stressful work week. My youngest wants to sit in my lap. My husband made a comment about how much it must blow to be sitting here cutting out Box Tops, to which I replied by throwing a pile at him, which has only caused me more grief because I challenge you to throw these things on your classroom floor and see if you can beat static cling and pick them back up! (Also, Warren is now buried out back. Tell no one.) I am just DONE!

I am fully aware my Mother of the Year Award is slipping out of my grasp, but I 100% CANNOT FINISH TRIMMING THESE THINGS OR NEATLY TAPE THEM ONTO PIECES OF PAPER! Find someone you DETEST in the school and have them do it! I am out!

The good news is that both girls have $9 each in Box Tops. The SUPER FRUSTRATING news is that the PTO President just informed me that they will NOT be applied to Fall Festival Dollars this year, which makes me want to take them all out back and set them on fire!!! (THIS MEANS I HAVE BEEN SAVING THESE #$%^&*@! THINGS ALL SUMMER LONG, FOR NO APPARENT REASON! NONE WHATSOEVER!)

So, I hate the PTO President (love her), hate my husband (love him), and hate whomever invented Box Tops (HATE WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING)! I am sorry to have dropped the ball on this one, but I am going to murder someone, if I do anything more with these Box Tops. They are sealed in baggies. They have been counted THREE times! I never want to see them, again! NEVER.EVER.NEVER.ASK.ME.FOR.MORE.BOX.TOPS! (EVER!)

I am going to finish my wine and do something NOT related to school or work! Honestly, I may even call into work, tomorrow. (Which would simply be me calling myself, and myself would definitely understand!) Riena, do not let Riley Mac get eaten alive by mutant bugs or drown in the lake, during her "communing with nature" field trip. (Sounds like an earthly version of Hell.) Judy, do not send a letter home telling me you want to take Campbell and her classmates out into the wilderness, because while I have come to terms with my seven year old attending such a field trip, I will flip a switch should you request to take my precious five year old out there! (My seven year old is getting mouthier, each day. My five year old, however, is still a Mommy-loving dolly baby. So, I plan on keeping that one...for now.) 

I hope the two of you have excellent weekends!
Ran

**ARE YOU KIDDING ME, JUDY?!?! I JUST RECEIVED A REMIND MESSAGE FROM YOU! TOMORROW IS SILLY SOCK/SUPER HERO DAY! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?! **smacks forehead, while cursing**

(I still love you, Judy, just Riena a little bit more right now.)