Thursday, August 02, 2007

In Triplicate

I made my annual trip to the Shelby County Health Department this morning for copies of my kids' birth certificates because God forbid we should put them in a place where we can actually find them from year to year. Some of you will recall my adventure there at this time last year, and many of you will understand that I only just now finished scrubbing my hands from that visit. The kids need these certificates so they can enroll in the very same school they went to last year. The School System needs proof, again, that they were born. Well, I proved it this morning in just under an hour and a half. The School System is a hungry beast that needs its paper, its forms, to look at and smell, rub all over its body and, I imagine, while no one is looking it sits in its gray-toned cubicle to gnaw on the corners of these forms. The proof is also there by the way, in black and white (at least legally), that I am indeed the father of these miscreants. Dammit.

Now that we're past that stage of the registration process, I've moved on to the school supply lists which can be found online, surprisingly. It seems that my family will be responsible for taking 13 glue sticks to school. Thirteen glue sticks? Seriously? It seems that as much as the School System loves its forms, the school itself relishes its glue. What do they plan to do with all of these sticks of glue, wallpaper their cinderblock building with forms and birth certificates? Use them to keep the kids in their seats? Make school cafeteria pizza?

The insanity begins in earnest next week when Big Mama starts back to work but the kids have another week of vacation. And I'm in charge. I plan to keep the order by having them fill out their own forms for school and, if need be, gluing them all to each other to better control them. Now, if you wouldn't mind picking up 13 14 glue sticks for me, I'll be in the back washing my hands. Again.