Bear brought home a sponsorship form. We have to sponsor him for doing things for a week, such as emptying bins (which he should be doing anyway), making his bed (he has insisted on sleeping on the fold out bed on the floor for the last week) or helping with meals.
I don't like these forms. I know of one mum at school who has four children there. It must be a nightmare for her. Then there are those like us who don't have many people to ask. I won't ask the neighbours, it's too much like begging. Besides, they have a grandson at the school already. I can put father down for a few pennies and of course we'll sponsor bear, but we won't need any of the extra forms that the school mentioned we could pick up at the office. I mean, there are a lot of spaces on the original.
Bear has decided that he will be Helping With Meals. My heart sank. I know what that means. It means that I will be unable for a whole week to just say, 'darn it, let's have fish & chips' or, 'darn it, let's just have something really easy. Pass the potato waffles and open up the baked beans'. Bear has expressed Views and we will be making creamy soup. To be fair, he will probably eat it but it is a lowering thought. I am not sure what we will be eating, but there is good odds it will be complicated. I don't envy those with several children, activities, both parents working, rushed evenings and packed schedules adding 'supervising dusting' to the list.
I admit, my instinct was to just put bear's name on the form and bung it in an envelope with a tenner and send it back. It is for a good cause, however, replacing their computers which are apparently a lot older than bear. However bear wants to do the right thing, so I'll grit my teeth and get on with it.
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