A Twelfth Open Letter to Lifetouch School Portraits

Dear Lifetouch School Portraits,

I have lost the ability to be surprised by how many letters I need to write you folks. Your capacity to suck at your jobs apparently has no limit.

I just felt like you might want an update on the saga of Rat Boy - my fourth-grader whom you took a photo of a few weeks back. As you can tell from the proof sheet you sent us, your photographer managed to capture Son Number Three inexplicably doing his best impression of a hungry rodent on the trail of a delicious odor wafting through the air.

Thanks, again, for that. I thought it was hilarious, but his mom is still holding out hope that you might take a decent picture of him some day, so here we are.

I assume you are aware that today is the day you scheduled for picture retakes. And, once again, you didn’t disappoint in the we-picked-the-worst-possible-day-for-this category. You have managed to schedule your picture days so poorly for so many years I have developed a new theory. I used to think you didn’t have access to our school events schedule, or you had it but didn’t care.

But this same scheduling debacle has occurred so consistently that now I see the truth. You must have our schedule, and you must be reading it very carefully, choosing the most conflicting days on purpose for some maniacal reason I’m not able to comprehend because I was born with the urge to be good at my job. There’s just no possible way someone could pick random days that conflict with our schedule so many times in a row. You would be making your living at a roulette wheel instead of behind a camera if that were the case.

So, I just want to congratulate you on your choice of days this year. You obviously know that this is Red Ribbon week at our school, where we take a stand against drugs by wearing whacky clothes. (Normally it’s the drug addicts who wear weird clothes, but we’ve flipped the script, as the cool kids say.)

Today, of course, is Pajama Day. This schedule overlap has happened multiple times in the past, as you know. It stands to reason, now that I know you’re doing this on purpose. You must be thinking, “All of our pictures are amazing since we’re so damned good at our jobs, so if those ingrate parents didn’t like the picture we took of junior in his Sunday best, I guess they want a portrait of him in his footie Power Ranger jammies.”

That makes perfect sense.

Besides being Pajama Day for the rest of the school, I’m not sure if the fourth grade event scheduled today was on the calendar you received. Just in case it wasn’t, I’ll give you a heads-up.

Each year, our fourth-grade classes learn all about the Gold Rush, culminating in a three-day, two-night field trip to Coloma, CA - the very spot where the first obnoxiously-large nugget of gold was discovered by James Marshall, who then immediately bought the first obnoxiously-yellow Lamborghini.  

A big part of the gold rush experience is getting all dressed up in their 1849 clothes for the trip.

They leave today on the bus.

Thankfully, they are able to get their retake pictures done before they load up. So, the boy you captured the first time looking like a hungry rat will now be re-shot dressed as Clem the intrepid Missourian prospector.

The hat and bandana he’s wearing should play nicely with the theme, but what will really seal the deal is if his teacher can find some black stickum or some electrical tape for his dental work.

If she can’t find what we need, can you guys do me a favor and just digitally edit out most of his teeth? That will complete the look perfectly. I’d really appreciate it.

Thanks a million!

-Smidge

Copyright © 2017 Marc Schmatjen

Check out The Smidge Page on Facebook. We like you, now like us back!

Also visit Marc’s Amazon.com Author Page  for all his books. Enjoy!

Back to School

When I was a kid, we didn’t go back to school until after Labor Day. Nowadays here in California, our kids return in August. My boys went back yesterday. I was always opposed to starting school before Labor Day, but only on the grounds of it being different than my childhood. I am just now beginning to understand the thinking behind moving it up.

I have been holding down my post here as the new Mr. Mom since mid-July, and as such, I have been forced to be within a few feet of all three of our boys for every single minute of every waking hour of every single week and weekend day for a whole lot of days in a row. I have to tell you, I might not be cut out for this.

I used to get to leave. Sure, when I did I had to go to an office and work, but still, I got to leave. I never realized how much they fight with each other. It’s not the fighting that I mind so much, it’s the whining about it that annoys me.

(Son in whiny, sniffle-ly voice) “He punched me in the stomach!”

(Other son in whiny defensive voice) “He wouldn’t get off my face!”

(Me in annoyed voice) “You were wrestling with each other for five minutes. What did you think would happen?!? Go read a book. You hardly ever get punched when you’re doing that.”

(Two ultra-whiny voices in stereo) “I don’t want to read!”

(Me in even more annoyed voice) “Then why don’t you move to North Korea.”

“What?”

grumble, grumble

“Can we watch TV instead?”

“No. I want you to be sharper, not duller.”

“Huh?”

“GO FIND A BOOK!!”

I don’t know when they start school in the far northern and far southern regions of California, where the weather is mild in the summer, and frankly I don’t care. Here in the Sacramento region it gets hotter than the hinges of hell in July and August. I would gladly take them outside for an enjoyable activity where we could bond and grow stronger and happier as father and sons, but it’s like the surface of the sun out there. It was 106 degrees a few days ago. That’s just stupid.

The other day, when I simply couldn’t stand being inside the same building as my three sons for another moment, I broke down and took them on a bike ride. Since it was 104 degrees, the plan was to ride to the water park, run around in the refreshing spray for a while, then ride back in our wet clothes, feeling nice and cool. No such luck. We arrived, sweaty and partially cooked, to a dry water park. A little red girl in a swimsuit with heat waves coming off her shoulders informed us that the plumbing was broken.

They should send out a warning signal or something. Son Number Three nearly exploded from the heat on the way back. He’s much blonder than the other two. Son Number One and Two used up all the available swarthy DNA my wife and I had to offer, and all that was left for Number Three was the blond-haired, blue-eyed, translucent-skinned Nordic genes. We usually just hold him upside down by his ankles and dip him into a 55-gallon drum of sunscreen before we leave the house.

Number One’s tire went flat halfway home. I briefly considered leaving him and saving the other two. My wife would understand that there was nothing I could do, right? After reconsidering, we stuck together and walked our bikes back, just making it to our door as our shoes began to melt. Son Number Three had stopped sweating, which is a bad sign, so we all took emergency cold baths and showers while drinking ice water. Close call.

So, what did the boys want to do after we had all cooled off and returned to the proper color? They wanted to set up a lemonade stand. Are you kidding me? We just narrowly escaped that furnace, and you want to go back? Look out at our street, son. Look through those heat waves coming off the asphalt and tell me what you see. You know what you see? Nothing. Nobody. Nada. Everyone is indoors. If I let you sit out there trying to sell lemonade, you will die long before the first customer happens by in their air-conditioned vehicle. And if by chance someone is dumb enough to be outside right now, do you know what they don’t want? They don’t want to buy a shot glass-sized Dixie cup of hot lemonade from a red, flaming kid with heat stroke. Go find a book.

Not only is summer too hot, it is also too long. I’m fine with school getting out at the beginning of June, but we don’t need ten weeks to “rest.” Now that I am Mr. Mom, I fully support an early start, and suggest that next year we have a nice four-week break and send them back right after the Fourth of July.

See you soon,

-Smidge

Copyright © 2013 Marc Schmatjen

Check out The Smidge Page on Facebook. We like you, now like us back!

Also visit Marc’s Amazon.com Author Page  for all his books. Enjoy!

The Event Planning Calendar

My mother-in-law recently threw a party for her father – my wife’s grandpa – for his 93rd birthday. Between friends and family, more than 60 people were invited to what was surely one of the biggest and most important family events of the year. She threw this party on Saturday, February 5th.

In late January I had been wandering through our kitchen and happened to peruse the calendar for upcoming events. When I noticed that we were scheduled to be at my wife’s folk’s house on Saturday the 5th, I immediately questioned my wife.

“Why does this say we will be in Morro Bay next weekend?”
“It’s my grandpa’s birthday party on Saturday.”
“Excuse me?”
“IT’S MY GRANDPA’S BIRTHDAY PARTY!” (Sometimes she mistakes my incredulous voice for me being hard of hearing.)
“I heard you the first time. I just don’t believe it.”
“Why?”
“Why?!? The 6th is Superbowl Sunday!”
“Oh.”

Oh? That’s all I get? I couldn’t believe it. Allow me to explain… The birthday party was being held 317 miles away from our house. It takes us five hours to get there if there is no traffic and no pee breaks. This is California, so there is always traffic, and we have three kids, so instead of no pee breaks, we have about thirty pee breaks every 100 miles. (To be fair to the kids, more than a few of the pee breaks are instigated by their soda-drinking parents.)

I stared at my wife, and she just stared right back. It was obvious I would get no help from her in rectifying this mess.

I called my mother-in-law.

“Is your dad’s birthday party really on the 5th?
“Yes, why?”
“Because the 6th is the Superbowl!”
“Oh, whoops.”

Whoops?!? Again, not the satisfying solution to the problem that I was looking for. I realize that she had more logistics to worry about than just my schedule, but come on. Who throws a party for out-of-town guests on Superbowl weekend? It became clear to me that I would be waking up on Superbowl Sunday six to seven hours away from my television. I had already invited people over to our house to watch the game. I could cancel that plan and stay in Morro Bay to watch the game with my wife’s family, which would be fun, but I would have to take a day off work to do it. I like to use my sick days for when I’m really sick, or when there is a meeting I need to avoid, so I didn’t want to burn one on this.

This event scheduling debacle really highlighted for me the need for a universal nationwide calendar of blackout dates for party and event planners. I mean, come on, ladies! The Superbowl is only the single-largest and most watched sporting event of the year. I would have thought you might have heard it was coming up.

We obviously need: The Universal Event Planning Calendar of No-Go Dates Due to Sporting Events and Other Guy Stuff.

The calendar would include the obvious sports that every American party planner should already be aware of; namely, NFL and college football, NBA and college basketball, major league baseball, golf, hockey, and Nascar. It would also include the lesser-known but still relevant sports, such as the Olympics (both summer and winter), pro rodeo, soccer, minor league baseball, Indy cars, tennis, curling, rugby, logging competitions, boxing, Scottish highland games, lacrosse, and the Tour de France.

We will need to include hunting and fishing seasons on the calendar as well. Nothing spoils a wedding faster than an absent groom who’s off in a duck blind because his fiancé forgot to check the calendar. Seasons that should be included are deer, elk, moose, duck, pheasant, salmon, and steelhead. Again, the calendar will need to include the slightly lesser-known, but equally important seasons for dove, quail, snipe, ground squirrel, mockingbird, catfish, opossum, mongoose, tree squirrel, and tiger shark.

In addition to the obvious sports and hunting categories listed above, the calendar will also need to include major non-sporting events. Whether us guys choose to attend personally, or catch all the action on TV, these events cannot be missed. They include Octoberfest, all three of the triple crown horse races, any major WWF, WWE or MMA fight, the world series of poker, and the running of the bulls. A few lesser-known events will, again, need to be included if this calendar is to be deemed at all credible. These include Novemberfest, the all-Mexico bull fighting series, the inter-Irish pub darts championships, Septemberfest, the world series of canasta, and Decemberfest.

Basically, if you want to throw a party or have a wedding, you need to do it on Saturday, July 23rd. That’s our only open date.

If the birthday party had been on July 23rd, I wouldn’t have had to haul my kids out of bed at 3:30 in the morning to be home in time for the pregame show! Could someone get started putting that calendar together?

See you soon,
-Smidge


Copyright © 2011 Marc Schmatjen


Have kids? Have grandkids? Need a great gift?
Go to www.smidgebooks.com today and get your copy of My Giraffe Makes Me Laugh, Marc’s exciting new children’s book. Get ready for a wild rhyming adventure!