The 1st grade students will have a nutrition parade on October 27th (Monday) at 10:00. Each student will need to dress up as a type of food. Please be creative!!!
*Grapes- use balloons attached to a shirt.
*Cereal Box- decorating a box and cut a hole out for their head.
*Sandwich- using poster board or foam.
~Students can dress up as any type of food.
The parade will take place in the church parking lot (weather permitting).
On October 27th the students will also need to bring a food from the food group to share with the class. (Store Bought Only)
Please have the students bring their food to class with them in the morning.
The students will receive a participation grade for the costume and food item.
The 1st Grade Teachers
I'd hoped we could avoid such events, especially after last year and the Egg Incident. My son and a few of his classmates were overheard making fun of one of the girls in the parade. The poor girl was dressed up as an egg, and the boys couldn't resist. Everybody knows that eggs should never be unescorted; they should always be accompanied by bacon. The principal disagreed, of course, and we got a note AND a phone call, unheard of in the world of private school discipline. You can bet that my son heard all about it.
Now it is Zane's turn. Ever the vigilant mother, I leaped into action. Box of crackers for the grain group? Check. But then...I reread that part about the costume.
My first reaction was to become defensive. What the heck is that supposed to mean, "be creative"? Are they insinuating that my child-decorating skills are lacking? Be creative? Are they saying that I can't make a blankety-blank costume for my own child? Is that what they're saying here? Blankety-blank.
Yes, I went there, and I spent a good twenty minutes griping to myself about it. Then I got a little depressed.
Be creative? Really?
I can create worlds inside my head, kingdoms full of witches and fairies and knights in shining tin foil, and put those worlds on paper. I can write a relatively decent song lyric. I can do a passable watercolor, one that sort of looks like whatever I was going for. I can make my own jewelry. I can cross stitch, and crochet, and occasionally dance.
But my creativity only goes so far.
When it comes to making a stupid costume, I'm all thumbs, and I knew that. I had to face reality: I have difficulty using scissors without cutting myself at least once, and I cannot sew in a straight line. I broke one too many needles on my mother's sewing machine and was banned for life, so that was out as an option. Staples and duct tape, my usual clothing repair choices, are probably not going to work here.
I just am not a Macgyver Mom(if nobody else has coined that yet, dibs), who can whip something up out of leftover toilet paper rolls, paper clips, and wire hangers. It's not going to happen, either. More than my lack of skill in costume making, however, I realized that I was panicking at the thought of trying to rush through creating a costume in the middle of working, soccer, housekeeping, and cancer. I know myself. I would spend more time freaking out about the costume in a fit of indecisiveness than actually working on the costume, which would likely be completed at 2am on Sunday, October 26th. Except that I have my lumpectomy scheduled for Friday, October 24th, and who knows how that's going to turn out? I'm supposed to be outpatient, but at best, I'll be doing a lot of lying very still and not moving. Not a good position from which to work on a costume. Something had to give in this situation.
In the words of pop culture, "Ain't Nobody Got Time for That!"
The extent of my creativity in this particular venture, after all of that angst? Amazon is a mom's best friend! They actually have costumes of food! Zane is going to be a fried egg, because I have a quirky sense of humor, whether the principal appreciates it or not. The boy is going to participate by making himself some bacon out of construction paper to carry with him for his little parade.
He is better at using scissors than I am, anyway.