On the first day of school I noticed in Mikey’s classroom a name tag for a little boy named Harvey.� Now, Harvey isn’t exactly a popular name, but that isn’t what made me do a double take.� What gave me pause was that all through elementary school (the same one Mikey attends) I went to school with a boy named Harvey.� I knew this Harvey had to be my Harvey’s son.
Sure enough, we bumped into each other at the Halloween festival and laughed about the odds of meeting up 24 years later, in the same place where we last saw each other.� Life is funny that way.� You know what else is funny?� Bake sales.
Bake sales are the classic way in which churches and private schools raise funds, and I remember looking forward to them as a kid–the exception being the part where I stressed over what my mom would make.� The thing is, these days, people don’t bake.� Nope.� They pick up donuts, buy things from the supermarket bakery, or drop by Marie Callender’s for a pie, but they don’t bake.� For the bake sale.
I bake.� There was no way I was going to drop off something from the store.� Harvey, apparently, felt the same way.� I posted my progress on Facebook in between Oatmeal Bars.� He updated me on his brownies and oatmeal raisin cookies.� Together, our smugness stretched across town, fragrant with the scent of home baked goods.� When Harvey dropped off his four dozen brownies and oatmeal raisin cookies the next morning, it was all he could do to keep from smirking at the dozens of pink donut boxes.� Likewise, my vegan oatmeal bars (raspberry and apricot) were happily received since it meant the kids with egg and dairy allergies could actually participate in the bake sale.� When I got back to my car, I looked in the rear-view mirror to make sure my halo was still on straight.� It was.� It was shiny, too.
Later, Harvy and I discussed our superiority on Facebook.
Later still, Harvey picked up his sons at school.� He asked his oldest how the bake sale went, and what he bought.� Brownies?� Oatmeal Raisin cookies?� It would be a toss up–they were both pretty fabulous.
“I had a cake with cream inside, wrapped in metal.”
I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right.� Oh yes, he did.� Harvey’s older son bought a Ding Dong at the school bake sale.� And he loved it.� He loved it more than the Ding Dongs he has in the cupboard at home, apparently.
Even later still, Mikey climbed into my car, the sugar high making him both spastic and catatonic.� I asked Mikey how the bake sale was, and what he bought.� Raspberry Oatmeal bars?� Apricot Oatmeal bars?� It would be a toss up–they were both pretty fabulous.
“I had a white cupcake with a huge thing of frosting that went like this {pantomimes tornado} with a plastic tree on top.”
I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right.� Oh yes, he did.� My son bought a store-made cupcake at the school bake sale.� And he loved it.
Harvey and I drove our children home, our separate cars propelled quickly across town by the force of our deflating egos.
But how many other kids went home and raved about the wondeful homemade treats they bought that they never get at home? A lot I’m betting.
We had a similar sale at my school where we traded lunches. Don’t ask any more details, but all I do remember is that I came home raving about spam. My mother never let me forget that one.
oy. i keep hoping my kids (especially the seven year old) will learn to appreciate homemade food as he gets older. it is sad that we have to compete with this overprocessed world of ‘food’. i secretly wish for the days when you couldn’t buy that crap. the saddest part of my story is my kid’s school won’t even let you bring in homemade food supposedly for health code reasons which sounds like a crock to me. but you are doing great by not only serving your healthy homemade creations to your sons but also involving them with the cooking. if all the bad stuff gets in, the good stuff like that has to as well. that’s my motto.
I always ridicule people who don’t really bake, for a BAKE sale. Kids won’t recognize how special their world really is with all these homemade goods, until they are in college, and don’t have any. I had a lot of food allergies growing up, the big one being, corn syrup, which is in everything. So I didn’t have a lot of candy and storebought goods. Just as well, though, I think they taste fake.
My old boss used to buy things for her kids bake sales. It bothered me so badly that I started baking things for the kids to take. Those kids loved that. So I’m with Colleen, I bet that a lot of kids went home and raved about the yummy homemade treats that they never get at home. And had I been there you can bet I would have snatched up those oatmeal bars. I never turn down a homemade treat!
Love the last sentence.
Funny how everything looks completely different outside of their home. My son is programmed to know that the grocery store cookies taste terrible compared to what comes out of our kitchen, but that wouldn’t stop him from looking for a Ding Dong too. :)
Children have such a talent for making their parents feel foolish. However, I would have definitely bought an oatmeal bar. But I was one of those weird kids who liked eating vegetables dipped in ranch and salad and whatnot.
I love this. I agree that homemade is always better. Plus I’m glad you provided something for the kids with allergies/sensitivities, since often that goes overlooked or people don’t want to make the extra effort. I salute you with a gluten free scone!
Hahaha! Ding dong and sugar topped cupcakes a.k.a kid crack…Loved this story:)
Nina Marie–I sent a mass email to the parents explaining to them that I would be more than happy to bake for any children with allergies treats they can purchase at the bake sale. Anyway, come to find out there is a little boy with celiacs disease in Mikey’s class who, obviously, can never participate. I wish his parents would have responded to my email. I plan on baking something for him, too, for the next bake sale. If you have any gluten free cake/cookie recipes and feel like sharing, I would love to see them. :)
I remember trading my homemade cookies with other kids’ Little Debbie’s in elementary school! How horrible was I!! My mom never bought them, and apparently their moms never baked. :)
Well, that kinda follows my rules about going out to eat… never order anything that you can get at home.