When the phone rang from Noise’s school on Monday, my heart leapt into my throat. He was sitting right next to me, so I knew he was alright– but I was worried that he was in some kind of trouble.

I know. I know. Noise is the last kid you would expect to get into some kind of trouble. But I was still worried.

See, the Pairs are an extremely rule oriented gaggle of folks. So the idea that he might have done something that was against the rules instantly worried me. Of course, he was fine, everything was fine– his teacher was just calling to ask me to bring something healthy for the “Fall Party” on Friday. (Note: NOT a Halloween party. FALL PARTY.) Then she explained to me what “healthy” was. (No I will not shut up.) Then she asked me what “fruit” or “vegetable” I would be bringing. (Apparently these “fruits” are some kind of healthy food source for you humans?)

I committed to bring apple slices and various dips of questionable nutritional value.

Now, communication from Noise’s school is shoddy at best, and usually manifests itself in the creation of an ever-changing cadre of rules which I can neither understand nor keep track of. Thankfully, Hubs is even MORE rule oriented than I am, and he does drop off in the mornings, so I don’t have to keep track of the rotating set of expectations. So when Noise’s teacher actually took the time to call me personally about the healthy food rule, I took notice. In addition to this call, the school has sent home various handouts in the past on healthy eating, so I understand that it is an important part of the education going on there.

Today, I swung by the classroom to drop off the aforementioned “fruit.”

And fuck if there wasn’t a table full of cookies, chips, cupcakes, and candy. And my motherfucking apples were the only motherfucking thing on that motherfucking table that could in any way be construed as healthy.

Now don’t get me wrong– I didn’t have a problem sending a healthy snack– I sent the exact same thing to Funk’s class a few weeks ago when it was her turn to provide snack. The thing that pissed me off was that it was apparent that I was the only one who followed the expectations that were set out. I was the only one who followed the rules.

And now Noise is the kid whose mom brought FRUIT to the PARTY. ACK!

And also? Big ass bag of apple slices with dip? $10. Bag of chips? $2. Eating produce costs more.

And lemme tell you that it would have been a helluva lot easier to pick up a bag of chips from the grocery store than make all those dips and cut all those motherfucking apples.

And this is pretty much indicative of what happens to us all the time. We have a motto in our family– Pairs do the right thing. It means that we follow the rules, and try as much as we can to do the ethical, just, thing. Even when that thing is hard, or unpleasant.

Pairs do the right thing.

But it often seems as though we’re one of the few folks that follow that mantra. And all around us, people are breaking the rules and being rewarded for it. And that’s infuriating, because much of the time the only benefit to doing the right thing is the intrinsic value of being someone who does the right thing. Doing the right thing means you pay all your bills while the shmoehead across the street claims bankruptcy and fills his house with brand new shit. Doing the right thing means handing over the $100 bill you found in the parking lot, even when someone has stolen over $600 from you. It means teaching your children to be honest, kind, and trusting, even when many of the people they meet in life will be complete assholes.

I believe in karma. I believe that the energy we put out in life is what comes back to us. So Pairs do the right thing.

But sometimes that means we get screwed.