Band Pies

One of my less favorite parts of parenting is fundraisers. I know they're necessary, but I still don't like them, and I suspect that I am not alone.    The suggestions of people to sell to on the fundraiser forms always make me laugh; my parents live in another city, most of my relatives live out of state,  my employer frowns on fundraising activities at work, and most of my friends also have kids who are fundraising, so that leaves a very small pool of potential targets- I mean, customers.  It ends up sounding like this:

Mom #1: Does anyone want to buy a band pie?
Mom #2: I'll buy a band pie if you buy some popcorn.
Mom #3: I'll buy a band pie if you buy some cookies.
Mom #4: I'll buy a band pie if you buy some wrapping paper.
Mom #5: I'll buy a band pie if you buy a softball raffle ticket.
Mom #6: I'll buy a band pie if you buy a poinsettia.
Mom #7: I'll buy a band pie if you buy a discount card.
Mom #8: I'll buy a band pie if you buy a band pie.

I hate asking people for money, even if it is for a good cause, and we all know who is doing the real work when it comes to sorting and delivering the goods.  The sacrifices we make for our kids.  At least now we have Facebook, so I can put my band pie purchasing plea out there without actually having to ask anyone.  It's an introvert's dream come true.

Today, at 5 PM,   the teenager and I will be taking possession of several band pies and attempting to deliver them to their owners before the pies thaw.  The pies themselves are tasty; I bought three for my own household, two of which will be eaten ten minutes after I take delivery of them.  The third one is supposedly for Thanksgiving dessert, if it lasts that long which it probably won't unless I hide it somewhere in the freezer in a box labeled "Tofu Surprise, 2011", and even then I'm still taking a risk.

Last night I had an intense nightmare which involved a scenario in which I (1) lost the money I had collected to pay for the band pies and (2) found out that I had put the wrong pies on the order form so that the people who wanted apple got key lime, and the person who got the peanut butter pie has a nut allergy.  The dream ended with a crowd of angry people carrying pitchforks and torches running me out of town while yelling "we wanted pumpkin rolls, not cream cheese braids! String her up by her thumbs!". 

No, I'm not having angst about this, or anything.

I know that the pie fundraiser helps keep the band costs down, so I'm not really complaining about it even though it sounds like I am.  The teenager has learned a lot from being in high school band, and the life skills she's gained are definitely worth the work involved in selling and delivering the pies.  Besides, I have one thought that keeps me going even through the dark and discouraging times of pie sales frustration:

Next year, the teenager will be sixteen and will have a driver's license.  She can deliver her own band pies.