When we did all of our careful financial calculations in the decision to buy a new house, one of the savings we noted, in big, bold text, was No More Private School. This was no small line item, and it served to reduce our monthly outlay, which folded right over into how that money would offset the new mortgage. In addition to the tuition cost, we often complained that our old school asked, almost weekly, for some donation or another, all of which went toward a minimum amount to be contributed each year. "Contributed." As another anonymous dad said to me, "If I just write you a check for the whole amount now, will you stop asking?"
What I did not anticipate--and all you neighborhood types are about to point your fingers and laugh--is the near-constant parade of kids at our door, dog-eared catalogs in hand, trying their best to support their [insert club name here]. Marching band. Cheerleading. Cub scouts. Future Farmers of Northern Pittsburgh's Easterly Suburbs. You name it. And every time I say yes, because sure, I do like to help. And, I don't want to be 'that guy'. And I fear that, soon enough, i'll have to become 'that guy.'
Seriously, $21 for a box of microwave popcorn???? I don't even eat microwave popcorn, and certainly not the kind with a list of ingredients I can't pronounce. A smarter me would have said, 'Here's ten bucks, keep the popcorn.' A smarter me is probably still months away.
So I now await my delivery of chocolate peanut butter chunk cookie dough, to be delivered in one-to-two weeks. And I fear the coming holidays, which will, innevitably, end with a fruitcake being paid for and left to rot.
I love our new neighborhood to an unhealthy degree. I just forgot the true cost to live in one.
If there is a polite way to say no, and still give the occassional yes, i'd love to know it.
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