Free Blacklisted from the PTA by Lela Davidson Page A

attention.
    C – Cuddle them in public. Singing a favorite lullaby also works well.
    D – Drone on about how totally rad the 80s were. Like, they, like, totally were.
    E – Eat the last cupcake. Also, lick the frosting off their cupcakes. They hate that.
    F – Fail to wash their soccer socks three times a week.
    G – Gush over their dimples when their friends come by.
    H – Hug your spouse and call him or her Babe.
    I – Invite the boy or girl who they like over, and cue up Barry White.
    J – Just say no to Poptarts.
    K – Kiss hello at soccer practice.
    L – Limit Nintendo DS use to times when it is convenient for you.
    M – Move the chips to the top shelf.
    N – Never give extra chocolate sauce.
    O – Order broccoli as a replacement for fries. P – Punish them with chores. Start with poop-scooping.
    Q – Quit buying bread that that is softer than your pillow.
    R – Remind them to pick up their rooms. Again.
    S – Sing along to the radio during carpool.
    T – Talk about puberty in front of the opposite sex.
    U – Underestimate how long it’ll take if they come grocery shopping with you.
    V – Voice your concern for their safety. Over, and over, and over, and over…
    W – Withhold allowance.
    X – Xerox their baby pictures and decoupage them on their lunch boxes.
    Y – Yodel.
    Z – Zing them with retaliatory comments in a public forum.

Fear the Bunny
     
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VERY YEAR MY KIDS CHOOSE H ALLOWEEN COSTUMES . A ND EVERY year since they were about four they have insisted that those costumes be different than the ones they wore the year before. As if anyone remembers. But okay.
    Off we go to Walmart to find something good. Wait a minute—what am I saying? We don’t do that at all. Turns out I’m WAY too cheap to spend $20 each and every year for some halfsewn wad of polyester. No, it’s a rare day that we buy off-the-shelf goblin attire. Usually I send my children into the closet with a pair of blunt scissors and a Sharpie.
“Be creative,” I say. And they are.
    One year my son made a convincing Luke Skywalker outfit from nothing but a scrap of burlap and the core from an old roll of wrapping paper. My daughter looked just like Laura Ingalls Wilder in a dress made from pillowcases and strategically placed potholders. They have paraded the neighborhood as fairies, witches, ghosts, and pirates. All without resorting to the Halloween aisle. But last year my girl settled on her dream costume long before we ventured into the closet.
    “I want to be a bunny rabbit,” she told me. Great, I thought. I started mentally planning: white t-shirt, blush pink nose, floppy rag ears, done. I was all for it until she added, “We can use ketchup for the blood.”
I hadn’t factored in the blood.
    It soon became clear that my daughter didn’t want to be an ordinary bunny, but an evil bunny rabbit—the one from Monty Python. She wanted to be the bunny with the vicious teeth. If you haven’t seen the Holy Grail, you’ll find this all a bit demented. You see, there’s a bunny, lots of blood, and an injured knight of the round table. (All very family friendly I assure you.)
    Although I’d rather she dress up as something a little less menacing, my daughter was intent on being evil. Who knew my cute second grader was a Halloween purist? I can’t blame her. Halloween is supposed to be scary. It’s fun to play evil. Who would you rather pretend to be—Cruella DeVille or the lame chick trying to save the puppies? Playing evil is fun because it’s make-believe. And we all know that real evil doesn’t wear vampire teeth.
    In the end, I was able to talk my angel of a girl into being a green-faced witch. She got to be scary, but traditional too, and in my opinion, sweet and nostalgic.
    This year she told me she wants to be a hot dog. So apparently she’s simply intent on splashing herself with ketchup. And she knows how to work the system.

Seven Surefire Ways to Get Blacklisted from the PTA
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OU HATE THE PTA. A