~ Straight A’s ~

For the record, I have no desire to brag ad nauseam like some out-of-control, maternal monster living vicariously through her progeny.

I am officially NOT going to bore my friends and readers with self-serving stories of my offspring’s success.

In no way will I gush with overwhelming pride for my child’s accomplishments.

Far be it from me to even mention Varmint’s recent attainment of excellent grades, or perfect attendance.

How obnoxious would that be?  Not to mention potentially embarrassing to poor Varmint? She has no need or even desire to be singled out.  It is enough to her that her family loves her.  She doesn’t need anyone else’s affirmation.  She has always had the strength to walk her own road, and be her own motivation.

So we are not going to talk about any of that.

What I would like to discuss, however, is the absolute injustice perpetrated on the parents of the 6th grade class at John Poole Middle School during the most recent Honor Roll Ceremony.

We arrived at the auxiliary gymnasium where the honor roll ceremony was to be held, to find a long table laden with a bevy of sugar-laden,

mouth-watering doughnuts.  Attracted like a moth to the flame, I hastened over to the carb treasure trove, only to be rebuffed by the most unkind, the stingiest, the downright meanest mothers I have ever beheld in my 29 years. (Ahem.)

Behold the transgressors! Just look at those angry, unfriendly, unapproachable demeanors!

They told me in no uncertain terms that these treats were for the children only and that no parents were allowed to partake.

My friends, you know, you just KNOW, that flabbergasted though I was, I was ready to go to the mats over this.   Why, this was no different from taking candy from a baby!  What kind of world do we live in where the long-suffering parents of award-winning children are not only teased to the breaking point with the scent of freshly deep-fried, heavily glazed, Colossal Doughnuts, but are also not allowed to join in the long-standing American tradition of celebratory hyperglycemia?

It’s a tragedy.  A travesty!

And as if that were not shocking enough….brace yourselves…


If this is not proof that the Mayans were right, I don’t know what is.


My Captain marvels at the fact that I can take an event so obviously intended for my Varmint, and shift the focus onto me, and food.

God-Given Talent.  That’s what it is.

God-Given Talent.

Meh.  I don’t even really like doughnuts.

So there.

( Oh, and….Varmint….I am very proud of how hard you work!  I love you dearly.)

Mama B

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