I was recently subjected to the lowest of the low in Suburbia-shaming: I was reported to the neighborhood HOA Yard Police.
In case you ever find yourself in the deep pit of despair associated with being yard-shamed by one of your friendly neighbors, who is waving, “howdy neighbor!” at you one moment, only to duck into their car and shoot off a report to the HOA about you the next, here’s my experience to help guide you through your stages of grief.
A few months ago, I started hanging out at the SHAC.
What’s a SHAC, you ask?
It’s a lot like the B-52’s “Love Shack,” except it’s in Austin instead of Atlanta, and it takes place in an Austin Independent School District conference room instead of in “a little old place where we can get together.”
Like “The Love Shack,” I would like to put up a sign that says, “Stay away, fools, ‘cause love rules at the Love Shack,” because a few meetings ago, I had an encounter with someone who is quite foolish.
In fact, she, and her anti-LGBTQ+ group, are the reason I now will be attending the SHAC (School Health Advisory Council) meetings on a monthly basis. (That, and because the SHAC feeds me dinner.)
She’s also the reason I had to post this to Facebook after I returned home from last month’s meeting. Read more
I would be the last person to volunteer to go up on stage and dance or sing in front of a room full of people (or iPhone screens which presumably have people holding them up,) so I’ve had some challenges convincing my kids to get excited about things like recitals and school plays.
“You’ll be great!”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of!”
“No one has ever literally died of embarrassment (that I know of) so PLEASE JUST PUT ON YOUR DAMN BALLET SHOES!!”
If parenting has taught me nothing else, it’s that it’s impossible to be rational with irrational little humans, especially when their fear is actually pretty rational and natural, (and your primary driver for making them perform is the fact that you just shelled out $50 for that recital costume, so it will be worn on stage even if you have to go up there and move your child’s limbs like a little, angry marionette.) Read more