Now is the time of year when all the bold, bright colors seem to spring up – overnight. No, not spring flowers, I’m talking fundraising forms. “Please give” they all say - give time to sell; give money outright; give us your grandmother’s bank account and we’ll just empty that for you. It’s all “for the kids” after all.

Yesterday alone my children trucked off to school with no less than $40 in “mad money” (as in my money and I’m still a little bit mad about having to part with it) to attend a charitable fundraiser at school. Sure, I’m all for saving the whales who suffer from diabetes or what have you, but at some point something’s got to give.

I am not a hard-hearted soul. I’m as for (or against) whatever cause is up for discussion as the next person. I’m for new playground equipment, basketballs, and paving stones and against cancer, diabetes, natural disasters, and gift wrap.

What I don’t get is how our nation’s children have been drafted as the next major workforce of volunteer salespeople and nobody but curmudgeons like me seems to care.

They keep telling me that schoolchildren have barely enough time in the academic day to have one recess, let alone the three I routinely had when attending grade school. Today children wolf down lunch in twenty minutes or less (with 19 of them spent standing in line waiting to buy). Our school has even cut out keyboarding because time is so tight (computers? Who needs ‘em? I’m sure that’s just a passing fad).

Ironically, they have no END of time to take my children out of class, herd them into the auditorium, and fill their impressionable heads with visions of the riches ranging from personal mp3 players to scooters to be had if only they can convince mom and dad to sell 10,000 units to coworkers, family, and friends.

I have taken a firm “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy when it comes to fundraising among family members. You don’t scratch at my door with your scented candles and discount cards and I won’t scratch on yours. Still the fundraisers keep on coming.

Who knows, maybe it’s just sour grapes? Unless all you blog readers are interested in buying oranges, candy bars, and “World’s Best Grandma” plaques from me online, I don’t see this mommy making much headway in selling at work.

Utimately, I’m all about helping America’s youth. I’m just not convinced they should all be pushed toward a third grade future in sales.

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