The Fretful Mother's Blog

Here’s the good news: I know when I’m going to die (sometime within the next 18 months), and I know by what method (beheading). And the bad news is that I got a great deal on all of this. I saw this opportunity to raise money for the kids’ school, and I snatched it up. Five hundred dollars to arrange my own death? My heart said go ahead and make a bid on that. It’s a fabulous trip to Mexico.

I’m the first to admit I can be a bit overzealous. The online auction for the school involved hundreds of donated items. Now, this is a school in a very wealthy area with parents who can throw some money around. For example, one of the items was “Spend a Day as the Principal,” and the bidding was up to $800. So when I spotted “Five-Day Vacation in Cancun” valued at $1,500 with a current bid of $380, I thought I’ll just throw in a bid of $400 so I can feel as if I participated. My maximum bid was to be $500.

As the days went by, trips to Aspen went up to $3,000, a kitty luxury basket was up to $375, and yet the Mexican vacation was stationary at $500. I started to get a bit concerned because not only did I not have $500, but I narrowly escaped death on my last visit to Mexico and didn’t really feel like reliving the experience. So there I sat with my zanax and a bottle of tequila watching the seconds tick away until the auction closed. Within minutes I received an e-mail congratulating me on my winning bid and promising to contact me to arrange payment.

I pictured myself having to tell the PTA moms I didn’t have the money. They would beat me with their tennis rackets and somehow arrange for my kids to ride the short bus. And then something even more terrible happened. I got the money (Uncle Sam is really picking up the pace). But I still couldn’t figure out how I even got myself into this mess. I consulted my boss who informed me that the other parents live in bubbles and believe that anyone who goes to Mexico will be beheaded by the drug cartels. Lightbulb moment: I was going to die.

I’ve watched Breaking Bad, so I know that this really happens. My head would be removed and placed on a turtle wandering the desert. And this all could have been avoided. Next time I will know to leave the bidding to the parents who care enough to only wear this season’s tennis skirts. You can never be too safe.

This entry was posted on March 25, 2011 at 4:57 pm and is filed under Fear of the Week. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.