The people of the school book

Well, I am thrilled to say that the People of the Book (I prefer that to the Chosen People because I am not sure what we were chosen for) have now sent the Children of the Book back to school. And not a minute too soon.

If I had to clean up my kitchen one more time 20 minutes after I had just completed a proper and thorough clean-up of my own doing, I was going to murder someone. Death for Crumbs might not sound like reasonable cause for you, but it does for me.

Which brings me back to the Children of the Book. When I was a kid I loved school. All my friends were there and how much black and white tv could you possibly watch on two channels? School was were the action was -- nevermind those ancient teachers with the wobbly underarm fat that entranced me for minutes on end or the incompetent teachers who I quickly realized were older than me but definitely not smarter, which wasn't saying much for them. School was fun.

And when I later figured out ways to have my parents think I was in school and my stupid teachers to think I was home ill, I was set. Without school, I would have been sunk. So why do my kids think that going to school is such a punishment?

I have told them at least a trillion times that if they are home they better be in bed with a temperature of at least 102 -- and preferably vomiting. I have also said that I am not going to hang around all day keeping them company or taking them places. NO, I am sorry. Children need to go to school to hang around with other like minded cranky people who think they would be having more fun at home and I need to be able to go to the bathroom without someone looking for me.

I took care of them when they were babies. We went to more stupid playgroups than I care to remember. Gymboree. Baby Ballet. Baby Karate. Baby Swim. Oh, and my personal favorite, Baby Sing-a-Long, where my son would promptly leave me in the circle of mothers and agreeable babies while he went outside to play alone. I have paid my dues and now I want to send off happy children for a wonderful day of learning.

I do not want to be SMS'd from class. I do not want to receive calls from the bathroom where someone is on the toilet and constipated. I do not want to make social plans for three weeks from today when you should be in class. I do not want to know what bitchy thing the teacher did to you today. I do not want your teachers to call me or send me notes -- particularly in hebrew. I do not want your teachers to know my name.

I want you to sit in class. Learn a little something and be the Children of the Book that you were chosen to be.