Heater, Mother of Lance

Investing in her future

Leta’s teacher this year, someone they all call Mr. H., is a man in his early thirties with a very dry sense of humor and a straightforward approach to work. He makes the kids “rent” their chairs using “H. bucks” they earn by turning in their homework and accomplishing assigned tasks in a timely manner. At parent-teacher night someone asked what happens if a kid doesn’t earn any money and can’t rent their chair.

“They have to stand?” he answered with a question because the answer was obvious.

“But for how long?” the parent persisted.

“Let’s just say that I’ve never had a kid lose his or her chair more than once.”

I’m on Mr. H.’s side. Make them ALL stand.

Apparently he wears a lot of Hawaiian shirts. A lot. Leta came home one day breathless, bursting through the door with the hugest grin on her face: “Someone asked Mr. H. why he wears so many Hawaiian shirts and he kind of looked confused, like, ‘Why is someone asking me that question?’ But then he said that if we wear a Hawaiian shirt on Fridays that he’ll give us 20 H. bucks! Do you have a Hawaiian shirt I can wear?”

Sadly, I actively avoided “Hawaiian shirt” when filling out my style profile at Stitch Fix. If he’d give Leta 20 H. bucks for anything with stripes on it? I may have a thing or two or a hundred.

When the girls were out of school a couple of weeks ago and my mother took them to DI, I asked her if she could look for a Hawaiian shirt in Leta’s size. Sure this was probably sold in the “boys” section of some store originally, but Leta does not care one bit. She is getting 20 H. bucks today! After she buttoned it up this morning she said, “I think I look like I work at Hawaii!”

At Hawaii?” I asked. “Is Hawaii a store? A restaurant? A business?”

She laughed and laughed. “Oh, wait. IN Hawaii. I’m just so excited. I’m going to be rich!”

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Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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