Too Cool for School

One of my biggest irrational worries – after a serial killer stalking me through twitter and before zombie invasion – is that I will unwittingly turn my children into laughingstocks.

How?

Well, it may come as a shock to you, but I haven’t always been the stylish, cool and amazingly verbose blogger you currently read.

Now hold on.

The verbose part has always been true. But the rest?

I’m afraid I was a nerd of the first degree.

I know, right?

Me.

It wasn’t just that my jokes came from a third grade joke book or the fact that I read Pearl S. Buck instead of Sweet Valley High. And it wasn’t just because I was very religious or because I wore clothes two sizes too big to hide my boobs. It wasn’t even the short haired perm or the Sally Jesse Raphael glasses.

No. It was the Holly Hobby lunch box I carried until high school.

It was the fact that I was so oblivious to the real world, living forever in my head, that I didn’t catch social nuances and constantly stuck my foot in my mouth.

And even though you all think I’m cool, I’m actually not.

I know, right?

Gasps. Of. Surprise.

But remember, when I visit my sisters, they do my make up and hair. They go shopping with me and put me in clothes that I’d never think to buy. They tsk under their breaths and sigh in disappointment that I still don’t know how to straighten my hair or properly wear a sweater.

Did you know there are proper ways to wear a sweater? Ask Becky. She’ll tell you.

So, as I peruse the back to school aisles and look at backpacks and lunch boxes, I find myself anxiety ridden.

What if I buy Joseph that really cute lunchbox only to have it be the boy equivalent to Holly Hobby?

What if I get him the super cool Trapper Keepers (do they still have those?) when PeeChees are all anyone uses? (Seriously. Do those items even exist still?)

What if I get him all the gorgeous organizational tools for his little desk area only to have the other kids look at him askance?

What if I make him sushi for his lunch when everyone else eats PB&J.

What if I put him in the wrong shoes and the wrong shirts and the wrong shorts?

What if I send him to school in an outfit that will instantly peg him as one to be bullied, picked on?

Or what if I end up trying too hard? Buy him the $45 lunch box, the $65 backpack and then, he’s even more out of place?

It’s enough to make me huddle in the glue and crayon aisle.

It’s enough to make me buy a lot, and by a lot, I mean a lot, of extra school supplies to bribe his teachers to keep a special eye on him. I’ve heard teachers can be bought with glue sticks and glitter.

Especially those Kindergarten teachers.

Mandy Dawson is a newly single mother of two juggling work, kids and writing. When she’s not hiding in the crayon aisle, she can be found blogging at Mandy Land.