Dear, end-of-the-year-school-mom, I got you.

I almost told my home and school association to fu** off this week. 

Hey, I give these people a TON of credit. They are there at every event, pushing forward to try and make elementary school a better place for all students. They are tireless moms, wayyy better humans than me, some even working full time jobs and fitting this stuff somewhere in the ass crack of the body that is labeled, “Commitment”.

And I DO come to events and give my time. I do think it’s important to be present in your kids school life. I DO. But, by about, let’s say April 18th or so, I can no longer fit anything else in my commitment crack. That shit takes a pounding fairly regularly, and I’m starting to chaffe.

Today is May 3, so I am WAY passed the date of expiration. Now you’re just taking a chance eating the meat, friends. It’s starting to turn gray and has a big, orange “MANAGER SPECIAL” sticker on it.

Someone, please pass the Goldbond.

That being said, I am here to proclaim why, in fact I am the WORST, end-of-the-year-school-mom, ever. There are more of us out there, I know, and while I’m SURE the teachers of the world would LOVE to end school on April 18th too, they have no choice but to cram this shit in, making our lives a living, shit stick, fuck up the arshole. They hate it as much, if not MORE than we do, which, is only ONE reason why I SHOULD NEVER teach your kid anything, except maybe sarcasm and filthy words. (And, no fuck doesn’t count. You’re sweet.)

So here you go, end-of-the-year-moms….

You can agree with me privately and hate me pubicly for this list. I totally get why. Appearances and all that, blah, blah, fuck and titties.

But, if you have done at least half these things, or something similar, you’re in the same boat with me. And we are sinkin’ fast, bitches. 

Maybe I’ll share my lotion with you.

Without further adieu:

1. My son asked me to buy him an Abraham Lincoln Costume so he could have an edge over winning this years, ‘Poetry Battle’ (You can guess what his topic is). When I tried to make him one the night before with black construction paper, he very, ever so sweetly, and conveniently, left it on the table the next morning. He is now on his third win, WITHOUT the costume. My response to that, (after I praised him of course), was to say, “SEE? Me not getting you a costume may have helped you!” Me, – 1. Guilt, – 0.

2. Snacks are dwindling and I don’t care. Chex mix ALWAYS tastes better after it’s been sitting with an open bag for three weeks. It’s called, f-e-r-m-e-n-t-i-n-g, kids.

3. ANOTHER Olympic Day is coming, and I, like usual, left it down to THE LAST DAY to buy the t-shirts. Do you know how many of these fucking things I have? I came *this* close to making them from old hanes, armpit stained shirts with dye and puff paint, just to proove that I don’t have to follow the mans sucky rules. Take that, gov’mnt! 

4. Breakfast? Are you kidding me? Do you really need to eat today? I’m out of Bailys for my coffee. FUCK!

5. Stop crying. You will see  your friends this summmer. (Probably not. Mom needs a break from other moms.)

6. It took EVERTHING I had not to draw a dick on ANOTHER test I had to fucking sign. Maybe then they would assume it was recieved and never send me another one out of fear of what I will draw next.

7. I love your artwork, kids, but NOT in one heaping mass. And calling it a “portfolio” does not make it sound cooler. You are 10 and you still pick your nose and eat it. “Portfolio” should not be a word you use yet. And yes, I threw most of it away while you slept last night.

8. Are you still doing homework? Here. Here are all the answers. Dawson’s Creek is on and Joey and Pacey are finally going to have sex. GO PLAY WITH SOMETHING.

9. We are eating ice cream at the local ice cream place for dinner from now until August.

10. Your lunchbox smells? Like what? Food? Just leave it sit outside and open for a night or something. That will air out the smell. Maybe. 

11.New shoes? You’re kidding, right? HAHAHAHAHAA. No.

12. Did I just see a note asking me to bring sunscreen into school for Olympic Day? I change my story. No, I didnt get that note. Sorry. Vitamin D for all, bitches!

13. Are you wearing socks? No? Okay.

14. Why are there gloves still in your backpack? What else is in here…..I should probably take a look.

15. Was this a granola bar at one time?

16. Oh my. I guess I should have given you sunscreen. Does it hurt overmuch? “Overmuch? Mom, were you watching Outlander again?” 

17. Yes. And no, I’m not sorry. ‘The Wedding’ episode runs on continuous mode on my phone. Cause’ Jamie. (See Sam Heughan in a Kilt below. You are welcome.)

18. Vodka does not smell in a water bottle. FYI, for when your “Volunteering” at Olympic Day.

19. What grade are you in again?


 20.  I’m sorry you don’t like to buy lunch at the end of the year because they are trying to get rid of all thier supplies before summer, and all they are serving is corn and old hoagies, but the world ran out of bread and juice boxes last night.

Stay thirsty my friends!

And remember, if they don’t like what you have to say, then come hang out with me!

Summer! OnWARD!

Mandy is a wife and mother who lives in rural Pennsylvania. She is an Art Instructor, a Romance Author, and Sarcastic beastie. To contact Mandy, send her an email: Find her on Facebook:  and twitter @exposedseries. Follow the blog for updates on her smut!


Published by Mandy Greenfield

Writer. Studio Artist. Lover of animals. Sarcastic mama. Hiker. Visual thinker. Kilts and coffee. Funny person. Having fun doing anything inappropriate. Likes medium roller coasters.

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