Even back in elementary school, when you could buy the prepackaged supplies for your children from the school, I didn’t do it. I guess I figure there’s so little opportunity for individuality when you’re sitting in a classroom all day every day, that if my kids wanted pencils with swirly designs instead of the boring yellow kind, and a SpongeBob SquarePants spiral notebook instead of the solid green variety, then that’s what they’ll get. After all, we do live in America.
Now that my kids are older, though, school supply shopping isn’t as big of a deal. My 12th grader figures that since he’s pretty much already a graduate, he can probably get by with one spiral and a mechanical pencil for the year. Still, even with a shorter list, the whole school supply concept is intriguing….
Congrats to all you people whose last names start with the letters M-Z. Your colored construction paper was waiting for you in a large, shiny display with big arrows pointing to it right after you stepped into Walmart. Those of us who are A-L’ers had to search every aisle for the manila paper (again), to no avail. We even have to ask a Walmart associate for help. This means we have to walk up and down those same aisles a second time, watching someone else not find manila paper. We are immediately filled with regret that we asked. And if you’re like me, you also regret that you dressed the way that you did, because now you have to hunt down manila paper at another store, and you’re in your pajama pants and flip flops. While that is perfectly acceptable attire for a trip to Walmart, the patrons over at Office Max will likely judge you.
I’d like to personally thank everyone who has bought their assigned 2 boxes of Kleenex. There are approximately 2 kids in every class who are allergic to everything and use 3/4 of the total classroom supply. One of those two kids has the last name, “Hopkins”.
In high school, your kid can buy good grades by bringing extra supplies. Hey, I’m not criticizing. I’m happy he can get a free 100 if his mom buys a pack of AA batteries. I think it’s an excellent life lesson:)
Dry Erase (no odor). Sorry, but those don’t exist. Trust me, I’ve sniffed them all. (At WalMart, of course, as this is the only place I think it would not be seen as abnormal behavior.) But it’s probably okay, because if you can control the misuse of those scissors and rulers you put on the supply list, you can probably also yank that marker out of Johnny’s hands when he seems to be getting dizzy at the board as he labors over long division.
I like how the pink eraser has stood the test of time. Also, Elmer’s glue. Not the sticks, but the liquid form. You can’t spread a layer of glue stick on your hand, blow it dry, then peel it off and pretend you have leprosy.
“In addition, teachers may require additional supplies.” You thought you beat the system by shopping early. But just when you’ve checked off the last item from your list (manila paper, of course), you see that little loophole of a statement at the bottom of the page. Guess who’s going to be back at Walmart next week with a whole new list? Lucky.