THE LIST

Index

13.August.2005

In the Big Stress Test of Life, you’re asked questions about whether or not your spouse has died, if you’ve moved, changed jobs, or changed your eating habits. Adding up all these things gives you a number that tells you how much stress you’re under and tells you how likely it is that you will start foaming at the mouth or eating your neighbors petunias and worshipping The Great God Tupperware. Something huge has been left off this test. The consequences of this particular stressor is evident to every mother in the nation who has experienced a child going back to school.

It’s The List.

The List is all-comprehensive. The List must be obeyed. I am powerless before The List. The List has caused me to do things that I’ve never done before. Today I gulped and took The List to the store and obeyed its commands as I do every year at this time.

It said to purchase wide ruled notebook paper, not college ruled. Buy 10 pencils The List decreed, but the package of pencils only came in a 24 count. This sent me into paroxysms of anxiety. I felt a tick developing in my left eye as I searched for glue sticks and dividers. I’d made it to the middle of the aisle when I suddenly realized I was surrounded, blocked in from the front and from behind by other women holding The List. There was no escape. Leaving my cart where it stood, I dove into the crowd of back to school shoppers mesmerized by The List they carried in their hands. I was in a mosh pit, banging into middle aged women trailing whining children and wobbly carts. Where were the scissors? I NEED SCISSORS! I found them between a soccer mom and a grandmotherly type with white hair but a mean right cross. Snatching a pair of pale blue Fiskars scissors, I was emboldened to reach around three thirty-something sisters conversing in what I took to be Mandarin Chinese and grabbed a package of pink erasers. Wait. The List decreed that I should purchase A Big Pink Eraser. I was confounded. It was pink, but it wasn’t big. Would The List know? My eye tick was getting worse as a pudgy boy with glasses shoved me into a pile of Hello Kitty backpacks. He mumbled something that sounded like ‘Who took My List? Where is My List?’ and then did that double blink thing that children in emotional distress sometimes do. It was obvious that The List had taken its toll on the poor thing.

Surrounded by shoppers clutching Lists, the air was sucked from my lungs. Sweat poured down my face, obscuring my vision so I couldn’t see the Bratz folders, the pencil sharpeners with lids or the colored makers, highlighters and red pens for correcting papers. The List shuddered in my sweaty hands. My tick was getting worse. I needed air.

When I finally burst through the end of the aisle and gulped in some fresh air I realized that I’d left my cart in the middle of The List mosh pit. I’d have to dive back in to retrieve the things I’d already found on The List. As I stood there with three other List holding moms, we eyed each other, nervously, gasping for breath and looking in horror at the mass of humanity crowded into one small aisle of school supplies. I elbowed my way to my cart, which to my horror (and I am not making this up) had been grabbed by a bleached blond in heels. She’d filled my cart with things from The List she had, which were not things on The List I had and was standing there sniffing an eraser. I looked at her and she squealed, “it’s scented!”

After some negotiation she relinquished my purloined shopping cart and I finished The List.

After adding The List to the Great Stress Test of Life, I found that I am currently on track to run naked down the street tossing Tupperware at strangers while singing Kumbaya. I can hardly wait till next year.

Index

editor's note: due to stoopid people who can't behave in public (ie, spammers) we have had to turn off the comment feature on our older columns. We'll try waiting a while and then turning it back on to see if they get bored and go away. In the mean time, we will manually add any REAL comments if you email them to us. The link is below.

OMG Pamela- that's too funny! I remember those days vividly. Thank goodness that my youngest is going to high school and doesn't need The List!
Janet
Edmonds, WA USA -

Hilarious! I've been there too. It's the only place I allow myself to be shoulder to shoulder, pushing and shoving with the rest of the parents of school-aged kids. I always go for a much needed, calming drink afterwards ... Love it Pam. Keep writing, please!!!
Bill
London, ON Canada -

Dear, I feel your Pain. In the district handbook, the Kindergarden list was left off and so alot of us mothers used the Kindergarden Muliage list. There were a lot of stuff that we didn't need and most of the stuff that we did wasn't on the list. I had to go through selecting everything, Again!
Annalee
Council Bluffs, IA USA -

Oh my heck woman! I have THE LIST here right now and now I dont want to go obey it like you. Your column made me giggle though. Thx for the laugh Pamela!
Mary
ID USA -

HAHAHAHA!!! Wow! I don't remember my mom haveing to go through that, but then she probably didn't take me along for just that reason... Hope you found everything so that you don't have to go back again! :-)
Jeri Lynn
Shoreline, WA USA -

Scripts modified from Matt Wright's guestbook. His scripts can be found at Matt's Script Archive

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