Pee Tee Ayy

I attended my first PTA meeting this week. I figured since I'm not working right now, it was my duty.

Now I know why I avoided it in the past....and I've got to find a way to get out of this.

The President likes to run things in military fashion -- no one is allowed to speak unless spoken to, and he makes sure that if someone drops the ball, they'll be punished.

The first meeting lasted 3 1/2 hours. 45 minutes of that was spend discussing whether or not the school needed a new popcorn machine. I seriously considered grabbing the pen out of his hand and stabbing myself in the eye with it, just so I could excuse myself from the meeting.

It finally ended at 10:30 p.m. (hello, don't any other parents have kids to put to bed on a school night?), and I darted out of there as fast as my legs could carry me.

The next morning, the deluge of emails began....and it hasn't stopped. The subject? PTA Prez's son has had diarrhea for three days straight, so he won't be able to fulfill his own assignments. Umm...just wondering if he'll get after himself for dropping the ball or not. And his poor kid -- can you imagine knowing that dozens of adults know every detail of your bowel movements? Dontcha think they might make some comments around their kids, and that it might get back to the poor diarrhea-havin' kid? Sheesh. Sometimes parents are so stupid -- even if they are 'community leaders'. I think I liked it better when I was irresponsible and ignorant about the daily happenings at school.

Road Kill

It's been a while since I've posted -- bad, bad girl. I'll do better. I figured there wasn't anything interesting enough going on to write about. Then I showed up at a recent football practice.

I'm not really a football mom. I don't understand the game at all. I just know to cheer when my kid is running with the ball. That's the extent of my expertise. Which makes me the oddball when surrounded by other moms and dads who live to watch their babies kill each other on the field.

My kid hasn't been getting the ball a lot lately, so I've been doing a lot of people watching. And eavesdropping

So far, the best conversation I've overheard was a discussion between a player's older brother and one of his neighbors. The two were debating the best ways to skin roadkill (this, I learned, includes squirrels, raccoons, turtles -- just about any animal that crosses the road). The kid was bragging about how his dog had caught a squirrel the night before, except he didn't like the way his mom cooked it.

I'm not kidding.

"Sheet," the father offered. "Yer mom prolly dint skin it rat." He then proceeded to offer step-by-step advice on how to best prepare all manner of roadkill. "If yer huntin dog catches 'em, yer lucky. But you gotta git in the house and cut it up quick, before it spools. And you gotta make sure you use yer sharpest naf. It's reel good in a stew."

He didn't stop there. "If you kilt it, be careful for the bb's when yer cuttin it. You can't never pick 'em all out. Ma cuzzin broke his tooth out from not watchin' fer the bb's close enough."

On and on he went in glorious detail. I couldn't believe what I'd stumbled upon.

The hubby had warned me that we were moving to the sticks, but I had no idea our new home would be this....sticky.

We're still adjusting to the cultural isms of this place. It's different from anywhere else I've ever lived, and in a weird sort of way, the people are growing on me. Between football and the PTA, I've met all kinds of people. For the most part, they're nass. Reel nass.

But I'm going to be careful about accepting dinner invitations. With all of my new social obligations, I can't afford to lose a tooth.