Seller’s remorse
“SLING SHOT MONKEY” “SLING SHOT MONKEY MONEY”. I sat in the auditorium trying to hide the concern in my face as 100 kindergarteners chanted SLINGSHOT MONKEY at the school’s annual Fall Catalog Sale kickoff assembly. Every year the company that runs our fall catalog sale throws a rollicking, slapstick assembly to get the kids all excited to sell, sell, sell. Brian, the catalog’s “entertainer/motivational speaker” who was well-meaning but had the charisma of a Best Buy sales guy explained to grades K through 2 that whoever sold 15 items would be rewarded with a slingshot monkey stuffed animal. All it took was for him to fling that thing across the auditorium and lust was in the air. They wanted that monkey and they were going to hit up their relatives and unload 15 rolls of wrapping paper to get it.
But the Slingshot Monkey chant was outdone by the grades 3 through 5. When Brian told them that whoever sells $1000 worth of chocolate covered pretzels, plastic hot dog containers, and of course wrapping paper (about 100 or so items) that they’d get “$200!” the room erupted in American Idol shrieking. One kid actually shouted out to Brian, “In cash?”
The PTA inherited this catalog contract from the previous administration and so I have to make the best of it—not to mention it raises a whopping $10k in funds. But I still felt nauseous watching Brian use the lure of a free Smencil (scented pencil to the uninitiated) to get kids to recite the big-ticket items: “Video Game chair with built in joystick and surround sound!” The #1 sale rule: “Never sell door-to-door!” And sale dates: “September 21st through October 9th!”
I don’t want to be partly responsible for getting these kids psyched to sell crappy am/fm radios just so they can buy bigger am/fm clock stereo/cd-player. The whole scene felt so wasteful and counter to values I’m trying to instill in my kids. So next year we have plans to go with another more upscale catalog so you might actually want what you feel obligated to buy. My secret wish is to find a catalog that promotes eco-friendly or recycled products (I know, make a face). I just know I can’t sit through that again. And I’m hoping it was an entirely forgettable experience for my son. But maybe not because later in the week we were at CVS and kinderblogger asked if he could get a toy and a shut him down right away by saying, “No, we’re not buying another crappy toy.”
He looked at me and motioned that he wanted to tell me a secret so I bent down and he whispered in my ear, “But Mommy, I like crappy toys.”