Back when I was a bold, bad paratrooper hanging out the door and kicking the ramp plates of a USAF C-130 over Panama I have to admit I would never in my maddest fantasy have pictured myself as a "PTA Dad". And, yet, here I am.
Whatever happened to the "don't ever volunteer for nuthin'" paratroop sergeant I haven't the faintest fucking idea.
My contribution were these:
And, for the record, the hankies and gift boxes were boss. Of the fifty-odd dollars we ended up making probably $40 came from Deb's crafty goodness. It says something about my future as a Christmas kitsch-crafter that the portion of my collection of Timbers scarves I used as part of the selling strategy drew as much or more interest than the actual bling.
And that's the reality of "public education" in my city and country circa 2012. No, we don't get a lavish budget for Astor school while the Air Force has to have a bake sale to buy a bomber.