Thirty–something speaks
Editor’s note: This column was run in September, 2003.
I never realized what a big deal this tax–free weekend was until I got a glimpse of my oldest daughter’s suggested list of school supplies. She will be starting kindergarten this year, and this milestone has me careening through an infinite mixture of emotions ranging from sentimental joy to absolute terror.
Aside from my own personal issues, I have been shocked to find that we are now expected to send our children to school with enough equipment to make an American GI in Iraq jealous. My child is going to kindergarten, not some desert in the middle east, yet her mother and I have to load her down with enough equipment to serve a couple of tours of duty. This list of school supplies looks more like the one I had for Y2K than for a day that still includes story time and recess.
This list of school supplies includes liquid soap, hand sanitizer, and baby wipes. I heard that school was a little tougher these days, but are they going to learn to read or scrub up for surgery?
When did it become necessary for kids to have so many personal hygiene products? Are we creating scholars or a whole new generation of obsessive–compulsive nut jobs? I don’t think I washed my hands until the fifth grade, and I turned out all right. My friend Brian Stubbs took great pride in the fact he’d never seen his cuticles any lighter than a pale shade of brown. I think he’s a proctologist now, but you get my point.
My daughter is also supposed to bring a backpack and a water bottle. I suppose when the little students are done washing their hands, they’ll be hiking the Appalachian Trail. Of course, the need for a water bottle could explain the need for all those sanitizing products. If my daughter spends a good deal of time slurping on a water bottle, chances are she’s going to spend an equal amount of time running in and out of the bathroom, and a lot of time washing her hands.
I did take a glance into the future and looked at the list of supplies for the remainder of elementary school. Either the tissue paper lobby has the Department of Education wrapped around its sticky little fingers, or our schools are infested with enough dust and pollen to make a fish sneeze. The item that tops the list for every grade was not pencils or erasers, but a two-box minimum supply of Kleenex. Is Kleenex really the backbone of our educational system? Surely the pharmaceutical industry has come up with some pretty good ways to fight the sniffles, or maybe some kids should just take a sick day once in a while.
But who am I to question the educational value of Kleenex? Maybe my kid does need a water bottle. I do remember sweating through a lot of tests. And they do say cleanliness is next to Godliness, so I’ll send my poor kid to school loaded down with hand sanitizer and wipies. If this bacterial battle leads her to a scholarship, I’ll even put a shower in her classroom. Maybe I could just make her a bubble–girl and not mess with all this excess equipment. I’m sure her school experience would get off to a rousing good start if she came to class looking like Buzz Lightyear.
…I think maybe I should just stick to the liquid soap and sneak a few pencils and some paper in her backpack.










