“Mr. Blutarsky… ZERO POINT ZERO” (updated and revised)

Update on Friday, August 17th: GWE and I have opted to remove Justin from the public school he had been attending for a day and a half. He has now been placed in a much better environment! Yesterday, I contacted his former school to notify them that he would not be returning. The first person I spoke with did not understand the words that were coming out of my mouth. The second person I spoke with acknowledged what I was saying, but then asked me to fax over a letter explaining why. I told her that I would prefer to send an email. After two tries, (because I was given inaccurate email addresses on two separate calls) the email went through. This morning, I received the following email:

Hello. This is [BLANK] ELEMENTARY SCHOOL, calling to notify you that our most recent information shows your child, JUSTIN, was either tardy or absent from one or more periods, 1, today. Please send a note explaining the absence when your child returns to school. High academic achievement requires regular attendance. We expect your child will achieve an attendance rate above 95 percent. Should you have any questions, please call the school at (XXX) XXX-XXXX. Thank you for helping us provide your child with a quality education.”

Allow me to point out a few things:

1) The school was notified that Justin would not be in attendance by both a phone call from me and an email – yesterday. Yet, when I called the same front office this morning to clarify, they still did not know that he had been un-enrolled.

2) Justin is a Kindergartener. If a Kindergartener failed to attend class (or worse, went missing), shouldn’t that warrant a little more than an email notification??

3) Justin not only missed one period today, but he missed the ENTIRE day yesterday! Where was yesterday’s notification? Did they not take attendance yesterday? Did they think he was there???

If you’ve been a follower of this blog (or know me personally), you know that it takes a lot to rattle me. I do not get pissed easily. However, had it not been for my wife’s ability to soothe my aggravation, I would be in our former public school office right now pointing out each and every misspelling, grammatical error, and systematic issue I’ve had with them from even before Justin started there.

Originally posted on Monday, August 13th, but retracted….until now: I am extremely excited about Justin starting Kindergarten tomorrow. However, I have become increasingly concerned about the level of education he is about to receive. I (along with every other parent in the district who has a child attending this particular school) have now received two notices from the Principal. The first memo referred to the children as “Stuents.” I was not pleased, but chalked it up to “accidental misspelling.” However, the second memo is below. I’ve chosen to make some corrections in red…just like a teacher.

Hello Families,

This is Name Withheld (How about “I am Name Withheld?”), principal of Blank elementary school (Why are the “E” and “S” of “elementary” and “school” not capitalized? It is the proper name of the school, isn’t it?) calling** (Really? You’re calling me?? Because this looks like an email to me!) you to remind you that the first day of school is tomorrow, Tuesday, August 14. Students need to arrive at school by 7:55am. All new students will report to the auditorium. Students who attended Blank last year will report to their old classrooms. Please be reminded that tomorrow is an early dismissal (an early dismissal of what?) at 1:28pm. (Could you not wait two more minutes?) Please pick up children on time (Whose children??? Mine? My neighbors? Could you be more specific??). The meal price has been changed. The full price of the breakfast is now $1.00 and lunch is $1.50. (This is awkwardly worded.) We are sending an opening packet home tomorrow with students. (How about “Tomorrow, we will be sending each student home with an Opening Packet?”) Please read all of them (Them what? A packet is a singular item.) carefully as they pertain to school rules and policies. Thank you for listening (Unless I read this out loud to myself, I didn’t listen to anything…I read it.) and see you tomorrow.

** I think what the Principal is referring to is that there is an audio component (either a voice-mail or an audio link) to these emails. However, neither memo has actually given an explanation of that.

It may be true that I am a “snob” when it comes to the benefits of a private school education versus a public school education. And, yes – I am also a sarcastic asshole at times because my tolerance for stupidity is low. However, I expect more than grammatical errors and poor sentence structure from someone who is about to become responsible for the education of my child.

The last thing any child needs is to be home-schooled….by me!

 

Justin’s First Futon (Gimme Shelter, Part 3)

On Saturday, Justin and I hopped into the car and drove off in search of comfortable seating for his (currently-being-renovated) shed. We made it a whole 3 blocks when Justin suddenly announced that he was hungry. Knowing that dealing with a happy and fed Justin is much better than dealing with “low blood sugar Justin,” I made a detour and we stopped for turkey burgers. (Justin had no idea he was eating turkey. He kept humming and dancing in his seat over how good his “cheese burger” was.) When we were finished with lunch, we resumed our journey.

Since we are doing this project on a budget, I decided to start with a trip to The Salvation Army. As we walked in, Justin looked around and was immediately drawn to the most breakable items in the store. He was compelled to touch everything. I pulled him away and dragged him over to the furniture section. Lots of crap! There were huge sofas, outdated sofas, ugly sofas, sofas with chalk outlines from where the owner’s body had been discovered after her cats had eaten her….ok, that last one’s not true – but you get the idea.

Laying in the corner, Justin found a black mattress which was on a metal frame. I knew what it was, but Justin had no idea. I instructed him to lay down flat on it. Skeptically, he did as he was told. I then lifted one of the ends until it clicked into place, creating a “chair”. Justin’s eyes grew wide and he asked “how did you do that?” I told him it was magic. I then lifted it all the way up to release and laid it flat again. Finally, I grabbed the base of the frame (long ways) and lifted again from a different direction and the other end popped up creating a “couch.” Justin was amazed. He had just experienced his first futon! To him, this was a Sofa Transformer. (We shall call him “Lounge-imus Prime!”)

To me, this was a reminder of college debauchery. It’s difficult to explain to a five year old that “Daddy did some things on futons at college that he’s not proud of and there were OTHER things that Daddy did on futons that he was VERY proud of.”

He insisted that he wanted this futon for his shed. Since I didn’t see a price tag, I told Justin to stay on the futon to prevent anyone from “stealing it.” In retrospect, I probably should have explained that concept better, because when I returned with a saleswoman – Justin had a look of panic on his face as he was spread out all over the futon belly-down and clutching it like a rock climber.  The woman told me it was $80.00, but today everything was half off so this was only $40. SOLD!! (And, it was write-off to a charitable contribution!)

A new problem arose – how to get it home. As I was purchasing the futon, I asked the checkout woman if she had any twine. Luckily, she did!  I lifted the futon onto the top of the car, strapped it to the frame of the car, and then drove home…..very…….slowly.

One night, when everything is put together, I may put on my Syracuse Orangeman t-shirt, turn on some classic Hootie and the Blowfish, chill a bottle of GWE’s favorite wine cooler from college (Bartles & Jaymes Strawberry Daiquiri), and invite her over to check out Justin’s futon!

Be the Ball. Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah!

With an adult Taylor Made putter in one hand and two yellow, Wilson Spongebob Squarepants golf balls in the other, Justin walked up the ramp with me to the putting green at the Balboa Public Golf Course. As we passed by an older guy carrying his pristine touring golf bag to his car, he scoffed at me and said, “You know, this is where we come to get away from our kids.”  I would not be deterred by this Grumpy Geezer of Golf. It was time for Justin to put away his windmills and colorful balls of Putt-Putt and begin to learn how to play this game for real.

When we stepped onto the practice green, I instructed Justin to drop his golf balls near the pin. He placed them down one by one. I then said, “Ok, Justin. Putt the ball into the hole.”  I said nothing else. I gave him no other instructions. Sure enough, he walked over to the ball, smacked it with my putter……….and it dropped into the cup – from 8 feet away!! For any scouts reading this, allow me to clarify: my left-handed, 5 1/2 year old son putted from the right while holding a right-handed club that was facing backwards and he still managed to hit the pin from 8 feet away!!! I looked over to see a couple of golfers who paused to watch my son. One of them gave Justin a “thumbs up.” Another just stood there shaking his head in disbelief.

Does the green Masters' champion jacket come in X-X-X-X-SM?

For the next 30 minutes, I continued to drop golf balls around the putting green while encouraging Justin to get them into the different holes. Sometimes he really connected with the ball and sometimes he did not. Regardless, we were laughing and having fun. He had a big smile on his face in between holes. But when he was getting ready to putt, his smile dropped and he had the steely gaze of Clint Eastwood moments before a shoot-out.

He knew that this was special. There were no other children around. This was “Man Time” and I think that he genuinely had a good time just hanging out with the guys. When he was done, he asked to go over to the water fountain by the first tee. As we walked over, he observed a foursome teeing off. He asked me “How do they hit the ball so high?”, “When can we ride in the white carts?”, and “Why is everyone wearing silly looking pants?”

Afterwards, I took him into the club house for breakfast. Together, we sat and ordered eggs, bacon, and French toast. He kept asking me if I saw his putt that went around the edge of the hole and if I saw his putt that went into the hole and if I saw his putt that hit the pin and if I saw his putt that hit another ball, etc.

The three, early 40’s guys at the table next to us got a kick out of overhearing our conversation. They turned around and asked Justin what his handicap was. He just smiled, showed them his golf balls, and informed them that he had gotten a “hole in one.” We all talked golf while waiting for our food. By the end of our conversation, they had invited Justin to join their foursome the following week. He responded, “What about my daddy?” They all laughed and said, “We’ve seen him play. He can be your caddy!”

And This Is How We Say Goodbye!

Until they perfect the art of cloning, GWE and I will need to rely on some hired help in order to get the kids from school during the weeknights starting this Fall. Justin will be in a new school this August and Garrett will remain at daycare. And, unless they plan on spending the nights at their respective schools, we need someone to pick them up and bring them home a few days a week. Time for “The Nanny!!”

When I walked into the house last night, GWE was in the middle of interviewing a very nice woman who ran a nanny/babysitter service. I did not want to interrupt. The woman and I exchanged pleasantries and then I wandered into the kitchen for something to eat. Every once in a while, I was asked a question – but, for the most part I stayed out of it.

Justin was very excited to see me and (as usual) his energy level went from a 4 to a 12 in under a few minutes. He began to ask me a million questions about my day, playfully “attack” me, and then jump around on the sofas a little. I also noticed that Justin was only wearing a t-shirt and underwear…no pants. While I knew that this was just “Justin being Justin,” I began to worry if this woman was judging our son’s behavior. Every so often I would walk over to Justin and casually calm him down and then go back to what I was doing.

When I was finally ready to sit on the sofa, Justin rushed up to me and said (loud enough for our guest to hear) “I love you daddy! Can I sit with you?”

Secretly, I was very pleased. It’s not that I felt like we needed to “put on a good show” for this woman. But, she was in our home to assess the situation and determine which nanny would be best for us. So….a little affection and good behavior from Justin at the right moment wasn’t such a bad thing. For the next few moments, we sat together and quietly watched cartoons.

When our guest was ready to leave, GWE said to Justin, “Say bye-bye to (blank).” He turned his head away from the television and said, “Bye.” Then, he quickly jumped off the sofa and said to the woman, “Wait, wait!!!”

I then saw him reach behind his back and start to do something. I wasn’t entirely sure what he was up to, but an evil…sadistic…smug smile began to creep across his face. It turns out that Justin thought it would be funny to grab his underwear, shove it between the crack of his ass (like it was a thong), and then show our guest his ass as a going away present. It quickly dawned on me what he was doing about a second before he did it. I immediately tackled Justin and prevented him from finishing his “master plan.” After GWE closed the door, I told her that either the woman thought our son was funny or she was calling Child Protective Services from her car.

Justin has to work on improving his first impression!

My Little Loan Shark, Pt 2

Yesterday morning, I took a financial loan (with a high interest rate) from my son.

Last night at 8:00pm, I walked into my house and found my son standing in the doorway. Clearly, he had been waiting for me. “Daddy, I’ve been looking for you.” he said, with a serious expression on his face. I did not have his money.

Luckily, GWE did. I quickly pulled two dollars out of my wallet and I grabbed a ten dollar bill out of her purse and handed all of it to Justin. (As you can see from the picture above, he was clearly satisfied.)

Now, I owe GWE ten dollars. This is such a vicious cycle.

My Little Loan Shark

I have been given 12 hours to pay back my five year old (with interest) or he has threatened to “take me to zero.” I don’t know what that means, but it does not sound good.

While getting ready to leave the house this morning, I noticed that the diaper bag was already gone. Normally, this would not have been an issue. But, since my wallet was still in the outside pouch from last night’s outing, I had a sinking feeling that GWE took the bag with her not realizing that she also had my identification, credit cards, and cash. I immediately called her to see if she had the diaper bag. She did. Luckily, she had planned on being near my office today, so she could drop it off. Problem solved, kinda.

I then loaded Garrett and Justin into the car and seat-belted them in. I turned the ignition on, looked at my dashboard, and had a minor heart attack. No gas. I had less than a ¼ of a tank and needed to get from Northridge to Encino to take the kids to school and then from Encino all the way into Santa Monica for work and then all the way back home to Northridge again….and I still had no wallet. Out of frustration, I turned around to look at the kids and my luck changed….

Sitting in between Justin and Garrett was a crumpled, ten dollar bill that Grandpa Bob had given to Justin less than a week earlier for his pre-school graduation. I looked at the money and then I looked into the face of my sweet, innocent, child.

“Justin, can I borrow your $10.00 bill?” I asked kindly.

“No.” he responded.

“Please, Justin. I really need to borrow it for gas.”

“Where is your money, daddy?” he asked.

“Well, mommy accidentally took my wallet because it was in the diaper bag and I really need a few dollars for gas.” I explained.

“Why do we need gas? Where are we going?” At that point, I knew I was screwed. How do you tell a five year old that you need to borrow his money (money that he doesn’t want to give you) to take him to a place that he doesn’t want to go?? (School!)

“Buddy, I love you and I promise to give you a crisp, unwrinkled $10 bill tonight. But right now, I need your money.” At this point, I wasn’t really asking. I was sliding it out of his hand as we continued to talk.

Tears began to form and I felt like crap about this, but gasoline is gasoline.

After a few minutes, Justin asked, “Can I call mommy?” I dialed mommy and handed Justin the phone. She picked up on the third ring.

“Mommy? Daddy took my ten dollars and he said that you took his wallet and now he is going to use my ten dollars for gasoline. Why did you take his wallet?” She paused and explained that it was an accident. She then encouraged Justin to ask for interest on my ten dollar loan. “Tell him that you want eleven dollars,” she said.

“Daddy, I want twelve dollars!!” he demanded.

“WHAT?!?! A 20% vig!?!?!?!” I was outraged, but really needed the cash.

“Fine, buddy. You win.”