No!

I have 144 popsicles in my freezer, and a dozen balloons in my guest room. This is what happens when I cannot learn how to say a simple two letter word.

I am in charge of the popsicle party at my daughters' school this afternoon, one of those meet and greet affairs, but without cheap white wine and a nut crusted cheese ball. I hosted a similar thing last year, only then the school was comfortable with ice cream, and referred to it as a social. But kids these days, burdened as they are by a slew of unusual allergies, which may or may not be linked to their vaccines, food preservatives, global warming, or inbreeding, might be allergic to ice cream ingredients. So we opted for popsicles, which have the added bonus of not requiring any special equipment to be enjoyed.

My children do not go to an ordinary school, they go to a Montessori school. So not only are we hyper vigilant about the ice cream allergy potential, but we can't offer regular old popsicles, of the orange, cherry, and grape variety. No, these popsicles have to be healthy. 100% juice. Or at the very least, heavy on the real fruit, light on the artificial flavors and high fructose corn syrup. I thought, no problem, when I was coerced into heading up this soiree, but that was before I went looking for the allegedly 100% juice popsicles.

I tried Costco with no luck, but that didn't stop me from buying a Benjamin's worth of stuff we don't need. The next day, I skulked my way over to Walmart. I don't shop there as it is against my elitism, but I was attempting to save the school and thus myself some money. But again, I left without popsicles. They carry plenty with extra preservatives, but none of the healthy variety. I finally broke down and spent top dollar on some Breyer's fruit pops at my local Publix, knowing that brand to be popular with the allergic crowd. And those pops, being of premium quality, come 12 to a package. Which meant I cleaned out the entire store supply of fruit pops.

"Wow, someone must like these popsicles," the cashier sweetly said to me as I checked out. Did I really look like the kind of person who would eat 144 popsicles? I know she was making conversation, but really. I had a similar episode when I worked at Publix in high school. A woman came through my line with about 18 boxes of Summer's Eve douches. I don't recall if they were the same type or a variety of fragrances, but I do remember asking her politely if she had a coupon. She didn't, and she was not pleased I drew attention to what was a very personal, if bulk, purchase. Lucky for her I didn't ask, "Wow, someone must like these douches!"

I picked up my dozen helium filled balloons, in festive colors, and one of those brightly colored plastic table cloths as well, so I am all ready. I am sure there will still be criticism of my efforts. Why didn't I find 100% fruit juice pops? Why aren't there more orange ones? Why balloons, they kill endangered birds and confuse the dolphins? Or as my youngest daughter, S, said, why not make all the pops myself?

And all because I can't say a word that even a two year old can master.