The Office Helper

When I was in the sixth grade, I was a member of the Safety Patrol.  At my elementary school, all of the cool kids were on the Patrol, and let me tell you, I thought I was hot stuff.  In reality, I was merely a notepad totin', sash wearin', deputy crossing guard.   

Now, twenty-six years later, my boy is about to take his turn on his school's version of the Safety Patrol.  Thursday morning, bright and early, my boy will start his job as an official Office Helper.  Exciting stuff, eh?

Technically, the boy was supposed to start last week, but no one bothered to let us in on that little tidbit of information.  He signed up during the first week of school, way back in August, and was told that someone would let us know when he was scheduled.  Apparently they forgot.

I heard through the grapevine that the "powers that be" were moderately annoyed when the kiddos neglected to show up for their shift.  I guess they just assumed that the kids would get a warm and fuzzy feeling inside indicating that their turn had arrived.  You know, just like bears instinctively know when to hibernate.

I wonder if I need to be concerned that these people are in charge of my son's education.  Hmm...

Anyway, at my son's school, fourth and fifth grade students can sign up to be an Office Helper.  They volunteer one day a week for two months.  The students are given a nifty neon green safety patrol belt that they have to wear when on duty.  They must arrive at school forty minutes early and stay until after all the other students are gone. 

The duties of an official Office Helper include:  opening doors for students, parents and staff, greeting people as they enter the building, lending a hand when necessary, helping to lead the Pledge of Allegiance and National Anthem, and taking down the flags at the end of the school day.

At the end of the seven weeks, my boy, along with the other Office Helpers will receive a reward for all their hard work.  And what a reward it is.  Drum roll please...  

The kids get to eat lunch with the principal, in his office.  I don't know about you, but that doesn't sound like much of a reward to me.  Punishment is more like it.  What elementary school student wants to eat lunch in the principals office?

I wish you could have seen the look on the boy's face when he realized his fate.  It was one of pure horror.  I am curious to see if the threat of a shared meal with the principal will be enough to keep him from joining the ranks of the Office Helpers again next year.

I have a feeling the boy is going to expect something mighty tasty in his lunch box that day.