Getting an "F" in School Supplies

The first time I was forced to care about school supplies, Trapper Keepers were a thing. This was back in the early '80s, the dawn of the cool-binder era in American history, and the Ocean Pacific-wearing kids who bought the first wave of Trapper Keepers are no doubt busy stocking up on Oculus Rifts for their teens right about now. For reasons no longer accessible to memory, I never owned a Trapper Keeper myself, but damn if I didn't covet one.

Fast-forward a few decades later, and I'm school-supply-shopping again, this time for my four-year-old, who starts preK this week. The challenge this time is, sadly, not as simple and human as envying a classmate's glistening, unicorn-festooned binder. It's that I have no idea what the hell the stuff on the school supply list even means. "Wide pencils"? Huh? And what is "color stock paper?"

No, seriously, I know it sounds basic, but it turns out that not even the employee I tapped at our neighborhood art supply store knows what that is. Also, what exactly are Craypas? My husband thinks it's funny that I'm asking this question (yeah, I eventually Googled it, but seeing the word for the first time provoked only a puzzled WTF.) "That's because you didn't grow up in the States," he insists. False: I moved to the U.S. in fourth grade, but I swear we never had Craypas on our school supply list at my suburban Houston school. Also, there were no Craypas in sight at the nearest Target in Brooklyn last weekend, and even the clerk at the Michael's craft supply store nearby didn't know what they were. 

Some of you reading this right now think I'm an idiot, and surely I am. All I'm saying in my defense is: I marched forth into this school-supply shopping mission full of optimism, confidence, and excitement on behalf of my soon-to-be prekindergartener. I didn't even complain about the length of the school supply shopping list, as one very funny Susannah B. Lewis does in this video, in case you haven't seen it. But then I began to fail. And I kept on failing.

Now, the day before school starts, we're still missing key items from the list. (So yes, fine, it's time to bend the knee to Amazon Prime, which is arguably where I should've gone in the first place. But one doesn't want to be a total cliche, right?).

The only consolation came from friends of ours, who just moved back to New York after living in Buenos Aires with their two kids. They couldn't decipher their kids' school supply list last semester, even though they speak Spanish. Granted, that was in Buenos Aires, and this is Brooklyn I'm talking about. But I'll take reassurance wherever I can find it. The same friends also sent me this video of a crazed supply-shopping parent. Fast-forward to the vodka-for-the-teacher bit. Amen. And here's hoping I get at least a D-minus on the next parent assignment my kid brings home.