Oh, No You Didn’t…

Being the completely responsible parent, sort of, I attempted last week to sign the boys up for CCD. Late and yes, I just called it CCD.  The deadline for registration was in mid June and yes, I should have had it done and checked off the list well before now, but seriously, who can plan and anticipate schedules that far in advance? Obviously, not me. 

Finally nailing down the baseball practice schedules for both boys and after school Kid Chess for Tucker confirmed that Wednesdays would be our CCD night again this year.  I should know by now that I am not lucky enough to have plans work out so easily. The early bird gets the worm, not the late and defectively scheduled mom. 

Scurrying into the Church offices late last week, I politely waited for the receptionist to finish her conversation as I mentally ticked off my errands.  Finally, it is my turn as she looks as me, smiles so gently and asks how can she assist me.  “Hi there”, I smile… “I need to sign my boys up for CCD”.  Then… long pause, she tilts her head to the right, purses her lips and politely, yet firmly, states… “Oh, well now…  not CCD.  You must mean PSR, right? We don’t call it CCD.” Mentally, I begin shooting bullets. Oh, no you didn’t… you didn’t just talk to me like I was 6 did you? You are my age… Really? Is it that important that you needed to put me in my place? Don’t make my put my checkbook back into my purse…

I grinned and respond. “Oh. Well…. all the same. Can’t teach an old dog new terms.” My mind is shooting bullets and I’m thinking do you want to register my children in the education of the Catholic religion or debate the new PC term to describe such classes? Seriously!

So probably, as a sick punishment and lesson for my failure to grasp the proper use of acronyms, I was denied registration for Cooper, but was able to register Tucker. Classes were all full (as I was told) or maybe because I didn’t know my envelope number or she knew we didn’t regularly attend mass… who the hell knows, a wrench was tossed my direction. Either way, I have been tasked at regularly emailing, as instructed, the office to request an open spot, “maybe something will open in November”.  I’ll be sure to correctly request a spot in the four year old “PSR” class next time and not that blasphemous thing called “CCD”.  Oh, no I didn’t just write about this… well, yes I guess I just did.

Blame the brain tumor.

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