But, really, it's all HILARIOUS. All the cute animals and flowers made of veggies. The kawaii rice balls shaped like...I dunno...Ninja Turtles or something, and the sandwiches folded into origami representations of the kid's astrological sign...
Ok. I made that last one up.
|But seriously, I can't even.|
That shit's totes adorbs. It's also not as new a concept as we all seem to think it is. I remember fondly (cringing is how I show fondness, ok?) when the PTA moms would organize little Christmas or birthday, or hell, whatever parties for my kindergarten and first grade classes; all the special snacks that our mothers laboured over--sometimes for days--in an attempt to out-mom each other. In this department no one worked harder than my mom. Being an outsider in our genteel southern town, she had a lot to prove, an ax to grind, and some naysayers to kill. I'd like to say with kindness, but I have reason to believe that our PTA doubled as an Antebellum Ladies Fight Club.
Honestly, she shouldn't have tried so hard because the tide was always going to be against her. She was a Detroit native, transplanted to the deep south. We weren't what you'd call "monied," though my mom was a business owner. The fact that part of that business may or may not have included the management of a brothel has little bearing on this particular story, except to illustrate that my mom was way too interesting for a life of carefully shaped and decorated rice cereal treat Christmas trees and handmade centerpieces made of coffee filters made to look like angels (with real doll hair). And besides, what money we had eventually ran out. It was also no secret that my stepfather was a raging alcoholic, and if it ever was a secret that he had a fondness for beating the living hell out of her, it wasn't long kept. A proper lady just doesn't let information like that be known. She'd have known the correct application of foundation and concealer if she'd really been committed to her position within the PTA.
But it's not all traumatizing childhood memories every time I log onto Pinterest. One of my all time favorite films is Mermaids with Cher and Wynona Ryder. I always loved that meals in their home consisted of hors d'oeuvres and canapes. The best Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners at our house looked very similar. However, throughout the movie it was understood that adorable food was a sure sign of sub par parenting. I'm sort of confused how this dichotomy has been flipped on it's head, and parents have taken to laboring in the wee hours of the morning to create practically inedible works of art to prove they're love for their children and their superior parenting skills, but I do love being reminded of how much I enjoy Mermaids and that I keep meaning to order it from Amazon.