Dear Mr. Superintendent


February 1, 2008 by Marj Hatzell

Dear Mr. Superintendent of the money-sucking-tax-base  school district that I live in:

A two hour delay?  Really?  I mean, it is forty degrees and pouring rain. I knew something was up whenI was blissfully and ignorantly sleeping instead of being ripped from my slumber by the carbon-monoxide-spewing-large-yellow-child-transportation-vehicle.  I mean, it isn’t even slippery out.  It isn’t even freezing temperatures.  I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and let you slide just this once. I know, mighty considerate of me.  You know, since it is your first year and all. But I have to tell you that you are going to get tons of angry calls.  The phone chain didn’t even start until after seven and instead of calling me to start it (I’m the lead caller because I cannot say no. But you’ll be proud of me, I said no to the Valentine Party!) your peeps called someone else on the list, who was really confused.  Thank goodness she had the intelligence to call me, the homeroom mom who cannot say no to anything.   And, the hotline for the school was NOT updated for today, meaning, even though tons of people saw it on the morning news (I’m not one of them) they called the school line and it told them, “HECK NO!  We have school!  There’s no reason for a delay when it is raining and forty!  Now, go catch yer buses and get all gussied up for work!  We’ve got your kids covered!  Bye!”

By the way, Mr. Superintendent, this could not be a worse day.  Bug Boy was already in a tizzy about Groundhog’s day (see my post in February of last year) and was feigning illness as a result of the anxiety of seeing that snazzy little rodent’s shadow.  And Bugaboo has therapy, which means I would not be here to put Bug Boy on the bus. Thank goodness I have a husband to do that for me. You are lucky, Mr. Superintendent.  Because I was about to drive over to your fancy-schmancy center-hall-colonial (that we, the tax payers are buying for you) but then I remembered I don’t exactly know which house is yours. I’m just guessing because someone told me and I am jealous because no one bought me a house like that just for running the school district.

By the way, I hear you have already made cuts in the special education budget (among other things)for next year in order to fund that fabulous middle  school renovation rebuild that about 50% of our district is  against but no one has mentioned cutting sports programs. O H NO!  Plenty of money for football!  Can’t cut that. I mean, it is a source of revenue for the school and all and it makes us look good around the state and attracts all kinds of smart people to our school district so they pay the ridiculously high taxes to get into the best schools in Pennsylvania.  I mean, it sucked me all the way from a quarter mile away.

If I sound bitter, I apologize. I haven’t had my morning cup of tea.  I may feel better in a few hours, in which case, you may disregard this diatribe.  But I am still angry with you and may give you the hairy eyeball at the next school event or school board meeting.  Just saying.


The Domestic Goddess

One thought on “Dear Mr. Superintendent

  1. Trace says:

    My friend teaches at the middle school and she said the teachers didn’t know about the 2 hour lateness either, and were pissed. I wondered why the girl on our street was walking away from the bus stop…

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