Dearest Parent(s) and/or Guardian(s) and/or Child(ren) Who Stole This From the Mailbox,

It’s that time of year again! School days, school days, dear old Golden Rule days. Ha ha ha! At least it will be here at St. Ignatius Coram Deo Academy of the Three Crosses Christian School & Bakery. Public schools haven’t had Golden Rule days since the landmark 1973 court decision in Moonbeam Steyberwocky v. Lee County Unified School District No. 3. (They tried reorganizing as No. 4 to avoid the judgment, but I think we all know how hard it is to shake a hippie.)

Anyway, as your principal (Principle? I forget.) here at St. Iggy’s, it is my joyous yet solemn duty to welcome your child(ren) back for another year of the 7 Rs: Reading, wRiting, aRithmetic, Repentance, Restoration, Rejoicing and Retail. Yes, once again, St. Iggy’s is holding a yearlong bake sale as mandated by our recently amended name and charter. Each child will be required to bring one dozen baked goods every Monday and Thursday. Don’t forget to make it a baker’s dozen as I like to model the Levite priests for the kids in the form of a donut tithe. With sprinkles.

Despite the fact that 12/13ths of your children have attended school before, my secretary says I am obligated by Malachi 2:4 to produce a list of school supplies lest I be besmoted with a plague of hooliganism. I have attempted to provide a bit of witty commentary in the style of Samuel “Leghorn” Clemens because summer is a lonely, lonely time for me.

Big Moses Tablet – Any kindergartner can learn to scrawl like a sedated cardiologist with a fat pencil and vintage Big Chief tablet from eBay. But a five-year-old who can chisel out Mary Had a Little Kosher Lamb in ancient Hebrew is going places. Whether those places are good won’t be known for 15 to 20 years, but I’m pretty sure we’ll be mid-trib by then despite what Hank Hanegraaff may say.

St. Peter’s Protractor – For making sure the angle of the angels is always some fraction of pi that I no longer recall. Mmmm, pi.

Trapper Releaser – It was either Obadiah or Michael W. Smith who said “love isn’t love until you give it away.” (The wicked Fender Rhodes riff that follows makes me lean toward Obadiah as Smitty prefers Yamaha synths.) So this notebook lets the love flow freely as your spawn tromps from trig to western civ. Love being loosely (Get it? Sorry.) defined as “doodles of endearments regarding one Becky J. Snogsworth.”

Pants – If my lasik-enhanced, restraining order-flouting observations are to be believed, the dress code at most public schools was written by former Nair models who seem hades-bent on making short shorts the longest attire permitted. At St. Iggy’s we believe in pants. Real pants. Not leggings or jeggings or anything with the word “stirrup.” And no, jorts are not acceptable for both aesthetic and etymological reasons. Nor may your posterior have sparkly adjectives stenciled across it unless it’s part of your medic alert ID.

iDuct Smart Phone Privacy Screen™ – Devices, as the tech cognoscenti call them, are everywhere, enabling all manner of snapchatting, instagramming, tindering and other assorted tomfoolering during study hall and the other 23 hours of the day. Mayhem, madness and data overage charges are their only fruits. So keep your precious and precocious chitlin(s) from ruining their chance(s) of going into major debt at an institute of auspicious auspices and wrap his or her phone in this special security film that bears a striking resemblance duct tape. Covers the screen to protect their eyes from being offended/plucked out by ravens, and their cameras to maintain modesty. Assuming you remembered the pants.

PDA Repellent – Just because your neighbor’s kids can no longer Instavine (see above) their hormone-driven shenanigans doesn’t mean they’ll cease and desist exploring French culture in that nook under the bleachers in the gym. (That’s right, kids, I know all about the Necking Niche. And if I could remember the school’s wifi password, I’d hook up a live camera feed to the World Wide Web. Gnarly!) To nip this lust in the bud, so to speak, we encourage those who still believe in cooties to carry an ample supply of PDA repellent. Preferably ice-cold and in the largest Super Soaker your little nerd’s arms can carry.

The New Strong’s Expanded Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible Large Print Edition – So your first-grader can reach the fountains of hopefully not living water. Please do not substitute a Ryrie Study Bible. We do not need to encourage the youths to literally stand on the promises of God.

Tissue Tracts – Not every student who attends St. Iggy’s has necessarily come to Christ. Some may even be Episcopalian. (That’s a joke, Trustee Jones.) And children, especially the wee ones, seem to plough through facial tissue (Kimberly-Clark has asked for a separation of church and Kleenex) at a rate that could deforest the Rockies in an afternoon. So we’ve decided to put the message where the mucous is and ask that each family supply 24 boxes of Puff’s Ultra-Proselytizing Tissues with Lotion per quarter. Thirty-six if they’re allergic to sackcloth.

No. 2 Pencils – Little did you know that the folks at I Am Second have been sneakily spreading the Word decades before they even existed. And if you’re required to get HB pencils for drafting class, worry not – the HB stands for “Herr Bonhoeffer.”

I must warn you that few of these items are to be found at Target, Walmart or Dollar General. You will most likely need to make them yourself or visit Siloam.com, the Amazon.com for believers. Owned by Amazon. Also, for parents transitioning from homeschooling to life at St. Iggy’s, please be advised that your now-unneeded anti-anxiety ingestibles may be disposed of at my office. Or sprinkled on my tithe donut.

I look forward to helping your child(ren) grow in the spirit of Christ, understand what a cosine is and dislodge the occasional piece of Melchizedekian Macaroni. Here’s to another banner year for the Ministerin’ Minor Prophets of St. Iggy’s!

Sincerely,

Horace Altoona, B.S.
Principal

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