There's an old adage the wisdom of which I came to appreciate more than ever last weekend: You really do get what you pay for.
I thought of that while volunteering the other day.
OK, here's the back story. When you have as many children as I do, you're frequently given "opportunities" to volunteer. Or you're coerced. It sort of depends on whether you're on the business end of that signup sheet.
Now the Lovely Mrs. Smith is, frankly, a more significant target of this sort of thing than I am, owing largely to the fact that she is just the sort of tender-hearted person who only wants the best for her children, and conversely, for all other children everywhere in the world.
Me, on the other hand? Not so much. For one thing (and somewhat ironically, considering the number of kids I have), I don't really like other people's offspring that much. Nothing personal. I'm sure they're wonderful and I'm not going to yell at them for riding on my grass or anything.
It's just that there are lots of people in the world who want to have a positive impact in the lives of children, to help them grow and reach their full potential and who want to be the mentors they need to achieve their goals. I'm, well, probably not one of them.
I mean, I hope all that stuff happens. I also hope for peace in the Middle East and an end to global warming. I'm just not the guy to drive the train on that.
I'm not particularly afraid to admit that, here or at any time I'm asked. So when someone says, "we really need a parent to read to the class," I'm not at all shy about saying, "Well, I really hope you find someone. Baritones seem to work. And one of those people who likes to do voices and stuff. Holds their attention. Theater majors. That's probably what you're looking for. Oh, you mean you didn't just need advice? Wow, well, gee ... awkward. Still, good luck with that."
Having said that, I've got to say, I've done my time. I've been a WatchDOG Dad, a camping trip chaperone and an assistant soccer coach (a note here: apparently knowing nothing about the game isn't that much of a hindrance to coaching it, a fact which may apply to more sports than soccer and more levels than Pee Wee girls).
I've helped sell candy bars, Christmas wrapping paper, poinsettias, coupon books, cookies, peanut brittle and popcorn. And I mean, actually helped sell it rather than just writing a check or browbeating the folks at work or various grandparents into buying it.
And while there were certainly quite a few instances of manufactured enthusiasm ("Wow, honey, great job tying those cleats! Now, in the future, you might want to wait until the game has stopped to do it. Or, when you're not playing goalie."), it hasn't been that bad. Not the most fun I've ever had, but certainly preferable to picking up trash on the side of the interstate, which I sometimes felt like was my only other option.
There's also something to be said for building up a little sweat equity in your children's activities. And, if nothing else -- "elephant in the concession stand" time -- it is important to realize they're only asking you to do this because if they had to pay someone, they wouldn't make any money. Which would just translate to you writing a bigger check, anyway.
So, smile while you're doing it. That makes it seem like it was sort of your idea.
Commentary on 10/09/2015