I spent the better part of this morning getting my son registered for fourth grade. He's transferring this year, so I had to drive 30+ miles to his old school to pick up his shot records, report card, test scores, etc. That wasn't a problem though.
No, the problem was the manila folder I was given at the school to which he'll be transferring. I counted on paperwork. I knew I would have to fill out address forms and emergency contact forms and allergy notification forms. I didn't count on having to fill out a dozen forms explaining that my children and I do not live in a tent or camper, we are not migrant workers, and English is the official language in our home.
Okay, I know there are cases when such things are needful, but come on! What the heck? I was so tempted to fill out the forms stating that I am a traveling gypsy, that I speak only Swahili, and I live in a van down by the river.
I just want to put my kid in fourth grade, not apply for a government bailout. Maybe all those forms are just to help the folks who really have had it rough in this sucky economy, but do I really need to fill them all out? Maybe I should just ignore it and be thankful that I can look at those forms and be mildly annoyed. I am pretty blessed, after all.
No, Mr. Board of Education man, I don't need you to give my child free lunches. No, we live in a nice, cozy house down by the lake. No, we all speak fluent English (Paulie knows some Spanish and Chinese.) No, we have reliable transportation. Yes, my children are in a safe home environment. Sure, I can donate some crayons and scissors. You're welcome.