The Chaos of Goody Bags and Thank You Notes

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If you’ve ever found yourself putting together 25 goody bags for a child’s birthday bash or watching your seven-year-old suffer through a hand cramp while writing the same two sentences on 25 thank you cards, you know that familiar feeling of wanting to bang your head against the wall. Why do we put ourselves through this madness?

Here’s my theory: there’s a secret society of overachieving parents whose sole purpose is to make the rest of us feel inadequate by setting ridiculous social standards that no sane person could possibly meet without a hefty dose of caffeine or something stronger. I can only imagine this group is backed by greeting card companies and that toy manufacturer that makes those tiny army men with parachutes (the ones that get tangled the first time your kid plays with them, leaving you no choice but to toss them while they cry).

This elite club probably goes by the official title of “The Committee for Imposing Social Standards on Regular Parenting” (because why keep it simple?). They casually refer to themselves as “The Social Expectations Committee.”

Naturally, regular parents aren’t invited to these meetings, which is why absurd ideas like goody bags and thank-you notes always seem to get the green light. If an ordinary parent were to sneak into one of these gatherings and the topic of goody bags came up, here’s how it might go down:

One brave mom would stand up, kick over a chair, and exclaim, “Wait a minute! I just spent a small fortune on a bounce house, and now you want me to shell out more for a bag of junk for each child?” The committee members would exchange uneasy glances and reply, “Well, of course, dear! How else will we make everyone else feel inferior?” They’d be caught off guard, not realizing that an ordinary parent had infiltrated their ranks. The mom would add, “But what if I already spent hours cleaning and decorating my home and hosting everyone? Isn’t that enough?”

At this point, the committee would start to panic, as real committee members don’t use phrases like “enough.” They’d hastily call for a vote on the goody bags before things escalated. “All in favor?” someone would ask, and only the usual members would raise their hands. Meanwhile, the ordinary mom would be shouting, “I refuse to support this nonsense!”

The scene would likely devolve into chaos, with ordinary parents wrestling committee members until they agreed to ditch the goody bags. Just as things heated up, security would arrive, escorting the ordinary parents out for violating some obscure rule about headlocks during meetings.

It’s a shame because if they’d stuck around, they could’ve voiced their opinions on thank you notes. If given the chance, they’d probably yell, “Do you not care about the environment? Why waste paper on cards that just get tossed after one glance? Are you people out of your minds?”

By this point, flying chairs and shouting would fill the air, leading to complete pandemonium, forcing the Social Expectations Committee to disband in fear.

Hooray! Ordinary parents win, right? Not quite. The unfortunate truth is that we don’t get a say in these hidden meetings where crucial decisions are made without our input.

But we’re here now, so let’s join forces. Alone, we may feel powerless, but together we can challenge these absurd social expectations that have crept into our celebrations. I hereby declare: I will never again put together goody bags or make my child write thank you cards! Instead, I’ll rent an amazing bounce house, whip up some killer strawberry cupcakes (okay, they’re from a box, but they’re delicious), order a bunch of pizzas, and keep the kids entertained.

When you return from your much-needed break, I’ll give you a heartfelt hug, and you’ll get a genuine verbal thank you from me and my kid. And because you’re an ordinary parent too, you’ll probably respond, “No, thank you!”

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In summary, let’s stand together against the pressures of goody bags and thank you cards. Instead, let’s focus on creating enjoyable experiences that truly matter.