Herff Jones Just Ate My Pocketbook

I was sitting at the computer yesterday afternoon when Caitlin came home from school. She opened the door, gave the dog an obligatory pat on the head and some baby talk before proceeding over to where I sat, excitedly thrusting some papers under my nose. "The class ring people were at school today!"

Ugh. Two things went through my mind: "Already?" and "How much is this going to cost me?" She has, of course, already picked out what she wants and eagerly shows it to me. She points to a silver ring with a "Vistavue" top (for those of you that don't remember, those were the rings with the "picture" in them). I start to quiz her.

"Is this silver-looking ring okay with you? Because I can't really afford gold. Or silver, for that matter. But if it's not, we'll work it out."

I get a shrug in response. "That's fine. I don't really care either way."

Whew. First hurdle went smoothly. Awesome . She's getting the one that isn't even a real metal. It's ultrium, or whatever. Which sounds a lot like "ultimatum": You either get the ring that you can't pawn for food and rent when you're fresh out of college and poor as a church mouse or you get nothing. But that's cool with me. I think to myself, "I bet I can swing a ring that probably has the same chemical components as gravel."

She starts to point to all the "pridesides" she wants (you know, the little pictures on the sides of the ring). I say, "Hold your panties on. Momma needs a price list." She shuffles some papers around and we locate the price list. I drag my finger across the page until I find the ring style she wants. $169.74. Oh, that's not so bad. Okay. I'm doing calculations in my head and I'm starting to breathe a little sigh of relief. I think I can handle that, especially with her sister's birthday coming up in October, her birthday in November and Christmas around the corner.

"What color stone do you want?"

"I think just a clear one. What is that, April?" We look, we locate it, yes, it's April. Done. I pull out the little check list of different options, mark the ultrium box and the April stone box.

I notice that we have to pick a cut of stone. I ask her what she wants. "Just whatever is in that picture." Hmmmm. We figure it out. And then I notice that the stone is EXTRA. Yep. You get the gravel ring only for $169.74. The stone is an extra $25. I'm sorry, that's wrong. You have to pay for the cut of the stone. But all the different stone cut options are extra. So, yeah, you're paying extra for the stone. This pisses me off, but what can you do, right? Grrrr.

She gets me all excited when she pulls out a coupon and says, "But I get something for free!" Oh, thank God, I think. I get all the options for free for ordering ahead of schedule. Or free shipping. Or a bottle of cognac to wash down the hopes and dreams of a wonderful Christmas. Nope. It's a coupon for free name engraving on the inside of the ring. Gee, thanks. That saves us a whopping $20 for something we wouldn't have done otherwise. "Tell Mr. Herff-Jones he's a hell of a guy."

Okay, now we're on the pridesides. She picks softball and culinary arts. Fine. And for her Vistavue she wants an artist's palette. Okay. Whatever. I'm now numb to all of the extras. Just pile it on. I start to peruse the different pridesides you can get. I chuckle and say, "You should get the sign language 'I Love You' and open wheel racing. No wait! The dream catcher and the hunting!" She humors me.

Okay, I start adding it up: the ring alone is $169.74. Each prideside is, I believe, $25 and the Vistavue top is $30. The stone is $30. So, the total is now at $279.74 without shipping and handling and tax. Shit. When did that happen? This gravel ring is going to cost me $300?

After popping a few pills for my blood pressure and thinking that I really should talk to my doctor about Xanax, I start doing more calculations in my head. The coming months bring her 16th birthday and expectations of driving school, which costs about $275. For those of you who don't know (and then why in the hell are you reading this?), I'm still in school, living on student loans and what I can eek out as a medical transcriptionist at home.

"Okay, maybe if I don't pay the cell phone bill. No, that won't work. Okay. Let's see. I could get a part-time job. No. When do I have time? Hmmmm. I could sell something. Like my blood."

I decide to talk to her about it, just mention it. As a parent, I want to be able to provide her with everything, but I am also confident that, as she's nearing adulthood, she will understand my predicament.

"Caitlin, with your ring costing $300 and driver's ed another $300, not counting insurance, I'll be spending over $600 on you in the next few months. I'm thinking that should be your birthday present, especially with Christmas right around the corner. And that's a pretty hefty birthday present."

Nothing but a blank stare from her and a suppressed sigh. I guess her stare wasn't exactly blank. I could read what she was thinking: "Damnit."

I try to explain, and then get angry that I have to explain. Damnit, I'm doing the best I can, the most I can do right now. I decide to shelve further discussion for later. Like when she starts pestering me about a nose ring again, or what we're going to do for her birthday party. Or a car. And a homecoming dress.

So, if you're one of the teenagers reading this, take this one thing away from my musings: be kind to your parents. Nine times out of ten they probably get angry and frustrated with you because they really do want to give you the best of everything and they can't. And if you're a parent reading this, take heart - you're not alone. And if you're reading this as a single person with no children - celebrate with lots of prophylaxes. You deserve it!