image: freevectorfinder.com
We have a friend visiting! I am all out of ibuprofen, and there is someone conducting a repetitive test of a tuneless whistle somewhere nearby, while the boys use their “outside voices” exclusively, arguing about who will be Player One, who gets to use which Legos, biggest cookie—you name it. Thinking that I need to restructure this whole playdate arrangement. I am going to draft a waiver! Waivers always make everything run smoothly.
Thank you for inquiring about a playdate between our respective offspring! Prior to scheduling, I request that you read and sign the following standard disclosure and waiver form.
I, _________________, parent of ______________, agree that my son/daughter may meet for diversionary purposes at the home of Young and Grouchy Megamind on the following date: ___________________________.
I understand the following statements:
-
Hearing damage may occur as a result of a birth defect which left YGM without a working volume control. He is set permanently on 11. Earplugs are recommended.
-
If my child has special dietary requirements or preferences, I will send along something that works for him/her. The neighborhood spelt supplier has gone bankrupt in these tough times. Also, there are religious duties which prohibit the consumption of Kool-Aid of any color. The work camp-like beverage selection may include water, milk, and whatever generic juice is on sale.
-
Extreme bossiness may occur at any time. The gracious host may take a brief time out, and there may be general statements made regarding groundation from various technology, for unrealistic periods of time. In no way does this imply groundation for the visitor, nor does it imply a request for advice from me to Mommy Megamind on appropriate groundation practices.
I PROMISE TO DROP OFF AND PICK UP MY CHILD ON TIME. FAILURE TO DO SO MAY RESULT IN UNSPEAKABLY BAD THINGS.
Just overheard in the other room:
Guest: “Life’s tough.”
Grouchy Megamind: “Yeah, Life IS tough.”
*sigh* Generic prune juice, anyone?
peachyteachy 
Hilarious. This is great!
I love it! I so wish I had thought of this when my kid was younger. I so would have actually used it. I discouraged play dates as much as possible anyway; being on my worst behavior generally discouraged return visits. One time we had a kid over that turned out to be horrible, so I made them match socks. Seriously. Funny, she never wanted another play date. She also has turned out to be trampy and no good, so I am glad that friendship fizzled.
Brilliant! I think the neighbor kids would avoid that sock matching thing like the plague. You should put that on Pinterest with a photo tutorial.
You are assuming that I a) know what Pinterest is and b) would know how to use it if I did.
I can barely work this blogging thing. And I am finally getting a small grip on Twitter (the “kids” at work explained the hash tag thing to me today, amid much laughter, bless their hearts!).
Pinterest is a way to feel inadequate as a cook, exerciser, crafter, and photographer. I am trying to give Twitter a chance. I have one follower.
I have 3, LOL. I will have to check out Pinterest. Always up for more ways to feel inadequate! Is your twitter name peachyteachy? I will follow you 🙂
peachyteachy5
ok.. i followed you 🙂
Cute…
May I suggest adding a rider that states: “I understand that the play date invitation is extended only to my child and not myself, and I have no expectation that I will be seated at your kitchen table, fed and watered, and entertained so as to prohibit you from accomplishing anything whatsoever during the time your child is engaged and out of your hair during said play date.”
Hell is other parents.
I will make a few rare exceptions for you and a couple of other sarcastic blogmoms, because I feel that someone in that crew will be toting advil, or something stronger.
Not only do I arrive with at least one bottle of wine, I also arrive childless. Win win.