It doesn't win me any points with the other Mommies, but I tend to loudly yell "BOOOOOOO!" and make lots of exaggerated thumbs-down gestures whenever a kid skips up to the stage to receive a perfect attendance certificate at the end of the school year.
Sure, it's a little unorthodox, some might even say rude, but I don't think it's any ruder than risking everybody else's health just so you can get a stupid fill-in-the-blank award certificate from Office Depot. You know what we got for your kid's perfect attendance? The month of March with a scaly rash and violently unpredictable diarrhea.
Well. You asked.
They usually present the Perfect Attendance award at that tasty combo platter that is the year-end assembly, awards presentation, fifth-grade graduation and nacho bar. It gores my ox every single year. Hence the booing.
"What's wrong with you?" asked my fitness freak mommy friend.
"You just booed a child. Who does that?"
"BOOOOOOOO!!!"
"Stop it! Those kids are going to get their feelings hurt. Here. Have some edamame. It'll keep your mouth shut."
Fit Mommy is always able to wrestle huge Ziploc bags of edamame from her purse at any given time.
I just laugh because I grew up surrounded by soybean fields and hog corn, both utterly useless when faced with actually needing to prepare FOOD.
While the guidance counselor gave with the left and shook with the right and the proud kid with the WET, HACKING COUGH blew his nose on his shirt and waved happily to the crowd, I turned to "Edda."
"He's a snot factory. Same as the rest of them. Look at 'em. They're so stressed out trying to get that Perfect Attendance certificate that now half the third grade has Fifth's Disease. If it weren't for kids like him, there probably wouldn't have ever been a first through fourth disease. Hey! Thanks for coming to school with a 103 DEGREE FEVER, LOSER!"
Edda scurried away to find another seat but I just raised my voice. Like a crazy person.
"Look at that woman with the camcorder," I hissed to no one in particular. "Her kid hasn't missed a day in FIVE YEARS. I heard his appendix burst one Thursday and she told him that's what weekends are for."
Which is my point. The parents are the ones driving this nuttiness.
Last week, a Michigan teen-ager's parents gave her a new car for having never missed a day of school from kindergarten through senior year. The family told reporters that she made it every day even "despite colds." Who'd have thought it? Colds in Michigan?
I hear they're spread by being SNEEZED ON by sick people who come to school just so they can get a stinkin' Pontiac.
And all the edamame in the world isn't going to make you feel better.