“Mom!! I can get a Weepal. Let’s call Grandmother to buy a magazine. Sign this paper. The guy will give me $20 if he sees me wearing a Weepal. I’m going to win a massage chair. Oh, and a lighted refrigerator that will plug into the car. We can keep drinks cold in the car.”

Considering we were walking to the bus stop, a lighted refrigerator that would plug into the car seemed superfluous.

(Note: this is not the refrigerator offered..this one is cuter.)

Stunningly, my skinny little 4-year old who can barely hold a crayon and my 1st grader who still sucks her thumb were hit-up to sell magazines -- allegedly for the benefit of their school.  The color catalog touting the program says “Help Support Our School”. Our school? Since when did Reader’s Digest dig into their savings to pay a hefty tuition or even make a measly contribution to the annual fund?

Immediately, I squashed the door-to-door hopes of my enterprising elementary student.

“Hell no! You’re not going to be exploited by Elmer Fudd who is using little children to make money for himself. Don’t you understand that this program uses little kids to do the work so that the man who came to school can take the money?  The company will only give the school a small portion of the proceeds while keeping most of the profit.”

Foot-stomping child.

“Uh, MOM. The man said he will give money to the school, and if I get my relatives and neighbors to buy magazines I can get a Weepal. If he sees a kid wearing a Weepal then he might pick them to get $20!”

For a person who has just begun to learn subtraction, percentages seem like a tough concept, but by God, Reader’s Digest is going to further my daughter’s education because I will teach her that out of $30 that she fleeces from our relatives that “the man” will keep $20 and only give $10 to the school.  Using our snack I count 10 grapes and give my daughter four while I keep six. I’m wasting my breath.

“Mom, pu-leeze sign this paper. Send these postcards to Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Susan. They can order the magazines and I can get a monkey clock. It’s the best clock in the world because you throw it against the wall.”

Digging in my wallet I say,

“Here. Take this $40. You can give it to ‘the man’. You can give it to school. You can keep it for yourself. You decide. What is the smartest choice?”

This conversation continued on and off for four hours.  My daughter was spitting mad at me for throwing cold water on her dream of being top salesperson. The Professor was as appalled as I that the school had allowed Reader’s Digest to exploit the children for an inflatable massage chair – just sell 50 magazines, $1,500 worth and the inflatable massage chair is yours! Imagine how easy it was to Google “inflatable massage chair” and find an immediate hook-up with a company in China that produces the crappy plastic chair in mass for pennies.

She begged. “Order a magazine!”

I rationalized. “It’s a trick. You’re smarter than working for a Weepal that is only a cotton ball with eyes.”

We continued the fight through bath time.  Lying together on her bed, the girl and I read the Little Princess while she rested in the crook of my arm. The book ended and we lay in silence looking at the drawings and stickers on the bunk bed above us.

“What are going to do with the $40?” I ask.

Sigh. Huff. Resignation.

“I’m going to give it to the school.”

Still not sure she understood what she was doing, I inquire,

“Why are you giving it to the school? Why don’t you buy yourself something with that money?”

In an irritable, yet knowing voice, my daughter admits,

“Because I really don’t need anything.”

Ah. We can all rest easy now. Lesson understood.  However, I am looking at one of the three-color collateral pieces for the program, which boasts a big headline saying “PARENTS…TAKE THIS TO WORK” Fuckers. I’m going to take it to work alright and write a letter to the administration asking them why we spend so much time and money educating the children while simultaneously teaching them NOT to think.

Comments

[karen]

Is it ok to say " I love you" for writing this? hahahaha!! I have SO been having this argument with my kids for YEARS. My 13 year old STILL does not get it. arrrrrgh! I bet you are so proud of your little one for getting it so well! and So early!

[pillow princess]

here here. next person who asks me to but wrapping paper from their child will rue the day. grisly

[hokgardner]

I hate those fund drives. My neighbor is the new PTA treasurer for our school, and one of her campaign pledges was that the school would never sell wrapping paper or cookie dough on her watch. She won hands down.

They're working on a plan to allow parents to just make a donation to the PTA in lieu of selling crap.

[Izzy]

Holymotherojeebus do I ever hate those stupid fundraisers. What the hell do I pay the highest taxes in the county for if not to fund schools? I told my daughter that we don't peddle and that the prizes they use to motivate the kids to sell stuff are cheap crappy things made in China and probably drenched in lead. I'd rather take a sum of money, give half of it to the school and use the other half to buy her something that won't poison her or break five minutes after ahe gets it, as that garbage always does. But then I saw "The Story of Stuff" and I don't want to buy ANYTHING anymore!

[aunt susan]

Aw, but I'd buy a magazine from Kathryn and George! Even though we already have a bunch of wasted paper floating around our house due to my own kids' school fundraisers... I hate these fundraisers, too, even though schools need dough. We always end up buying six or eight subscriptions so are darlings can get their name put into some lottery for an ipod or whatever--of course, cudda bought 'em the ipod for the money spent. Also, the school encourages you to send out postcards to relatives, and then you get some other reward! So I always let our victims know, you will be receiving a postcard, but don't feel the need to buy a stupid subscription. The gift wrap is almost worse--that stuff is so overpriced that I can not bring myself to suggest that anyone should buy it. Then there's all the junk food--candy, cookie dough. Great message for kids there. Ever seen that bumper sticker that says something like... the world will be a better place when schools have all the funding they need and the Pentagon has to raise money with bake sales? Something like that!

[Deb (Missives From Suburbia)]

Seriously, just ask me to write a check to the school.