The Fickle Hand of Fetes

Here we are in Springtime (I know, strange for those of you in Autumn) and it's my favorite time of year. Not only do all the flowers bloom and the animals bear fruit, um, babies (fruit of their loins, right?), but Spring is the peak time in Australia for fetes.

I love fetes. Buying little pots of strange plants that sit like unopened Christmas presents, their contents unknown until they flower next year. Second-hand plastic contraptions picked up from the White Elephant stall that you take home with great plans to put to use, only to find you never have time to set it up and can't figure out how things go together without the instructions. Home made sweets that don't quite make it home but form a sticky pile of licked wrapping in the bottom of your handbag. Then there's the joy of knowing that the money you spent on these dubious treasures goes to a good cause- a school/church/charity, so the dosh does double duty- always a good thing.

This week I have to help my kids prepare for their school fete. One contribution is a food stall where the parents make all kinds of goodies, donate them, then turn up on the day to buy them back if no one else does so our kids aren't disappointed. The other stall my 13 y.o. is running "by myself, Mum!" Um, okay. Does that count the plain white t-shirts I had to buy so he could print up uniforms for the 2 boys working for him? Or the gallons of printer ink for the info sheets he intends to give away free with every purchase? Maybe it doesn't count the mess and ingredients used in my kitchen as he makes his "dinosaur treats?" I believe these expenditures are to be written off in the columns of PR and education expenses. I think I have a budding entrepreneur, or swindler maybe.

Yeah, I love fetes.

I think.