Cocaine Princess here.
This past Sunday I was with my sister volunteering at her school. Saturday we had a late night and upon going to bed she reminded me about the promise I had made of helping out. I honestly don’t recall offering to volunteer and not that I had a problem with it because I would have never declined but I just didn’t remember saying yes. Forget about me not remembering saying yes I didn’t even remember the conversation. "A" claimed she had provided me with the details 2 weeks ago and had said I agreed to help out. She even described what I was wearing on the day she told me. I’m guessing it was one of those moments where I said yes by pretending to pay attention to what she was talking about.
"What exactly did you volunteer me for?" I asked.
She provided me with the low-down. I just kind of looked at her.
"It was either that or sign you up to cook and serve breakfast, darling. Would you rather do that instead?"
"No, no. Whatever you signed me up for is fine," I replied.
Sunday
The school where my sister teaches at is where we headed, to be more specific the school gymnasium. The school was raising money for the "Breakfast Club" a non-profit organization that believes "every child is entitled to a nutritious breakfast." It’s pretty sad when you learn how many little ones go to school on an empty tummy because their parents cannot afford to provide even a simple breakfast. Many schools have a breakfast club where parents can drop off their children in the morning and be assured they will receive a breakfast while getting help with their homework by a support staff, they can play games, read books or if a student is in need of emotional support they can drop by. The children of the clubs are also included in special events "that expose them to activities that would be otherwise unavailable to them – a bike program, tree planting and to sporting events."
The money raised will be used towards buying food, pots, pans and utensils. Almost everyone in the vicinity showed up and to my surprise Poodle Lady with her "baby" in a carrier. And yes owner and pet were dressed alike. Black and white polka dots. I’m not sure if she was there to lend support to the cause or to scope out possible suspects. The food was provided by the local Harvey’s Restaurant (think McDonald’s) who promised to match the donation along with several other companies. "A" and many of her colleagues and parents were cooking and serving food.
I bought a plate and sat down at a table with some of the little ones. I wanted to chow down first before commencing my volunteer duties. I had pancakes with jam, eggs, toast with butter and a little Minute Maid juice box. I was sitting on a blue plastic Spider Man chair. One boy complained he didn’t want to sit in a pink chair with Dora painted on it so I swapped with him. Another little child had a sour look on his face. I asked him what was wrong.
"My sausage isn’t cut up. Mommy always cuts my sausage up," he said.
I realized who the child was. It was the "pint size little dictator." (2/10/09)
"Well, well, well," I thought to myself. "The Pint Size Little Dictator likes his sausage cut up by his mommy."
I offered to cut it for him and did as much cutting as I could with my plastic knife. He was
very appreciative.
Hmm...maybe he isn’t so much of a dictator after all.
To Be Continued....
XOXOXOXO,
Cocaine Princess
