The Fat Diaries: The Cupcake Ban Hits the School Front
My kid’s back-to-school night was this week. I was in a bright room of forty adults sitting on little weenie chairs, looking like the little lost five-year olds we sent into the unknown two weeks ago. The teacher stood at the front of the class and talked to us.
We went over the new-new-new grading system which replaced the new-new system last year. Then among the list of classroom rules and guidelines there was one sentence that caught my attention.
“We ask that you do not send cupcakes or other foods to school on your child’s birthday.”
A few other moms spotted this too and after a few raised hands with audible “Ooh! Ooh!’s” we asked for clarification. Simply put, because of dietary restrictions and allergies, the tradition of birthday cupcakes was now officially banned.
I think my first reaction was simply one of incredulity. You’ve got to have birthday cupcakes in school… because…. because you always have birthday cupcakes in school! Banning it didn’t seem evil or righteous or anything else. It just felt weird.
I liked it when it was my birthday in class (up until 5th grade anyway, when the cupcake thing fizzled out). You had a rare chance to see your mom that day as she arrived bearing goodies. There was a minor party and everyone sang to you. You were queen for the entire day and the class looked upon you as a benefactress for bestowing upon them the gift of cake. This was another of my childhood joys that my son and daughter would have to miss out on.
Granted, I’m ashamed to admit that there was a good deal of relief in this announcement. The pressure was off me. I hate baking. There are 30 kids in my boy’s class, and I have one muffin tin that makes 12. That means I need almost 3 boxes of cake mix, nine eggs, half a bottle of vegetable oil, not to mention cupcake wrappers and 2 cartons of ready-made frosting and bake 3 separate batches. Simply trying to work out the transportation of said cupcakes to school would have been a nightmare. And then there’s all that extra sugar the kids are getting. And let’s face it, I’m going to eat at least 4 cupcakes while I’m making them.
When I was in the class, I glanced at the birthday chart on the wall and saw that six kids had September birthdays; three were in December and except for March every month had a kid’s name in it. That meant that my kid would be eating roughly 25 cupcakes in a given school year — some of them every week in that month. That also meant that for 25 days, the Teacher would have to deal with 30 kids hopped-up on sugar and then have to clean up after them all.
Diabetics, and kids with allergies to peanuts and gluten, would either have to be ostracized or be exposed to dangerous food items. Kids with dietary rules against gelatin, leavened bread and/or who are avoiding treats because their parents are fasting, would also be in the vise.
These are things I never thought about back in my schooldays and if any kids were being left out or exposed to deadly cupcake crumbs I was ignorant of it. After scraping the icing off, it was seriously all about the cake.
My son’s teacher eventually said that we were allowed to send in non-food treats instead like stickers or pencils — like we were the lame house on Halloween. My husband scoffed at this.
“So now we’re buying them toys?” he moaned.
“Oh, stop whining! It’s as simple as stopping at the party store and grabbing two bags of kazoos.”
Joe gave me a funny look and said, “I thought said you liked Mrs. -----?”
The image of a classroom of 30 five-year-olds with kazoos suddenly entered my head.
“You’re right,” I said. “What the hell was I thinking?”
Maybe we’ll just get those little Japanese erasers that look like food. I wonder if they have cupcake shapes.
