This Was Not The Results I Was Expecting

Not too long ago, I gave Rascal one of those purple plaque tablets.  You know the ones - you chew on them and they turn the plaque in your mouth purple so you know where your tooth brushing needs improvement.  After a few moments of chewing there was the big spit and reveal.  Rascal's mouth was PURPLE.  With globs of purple saliva hanging out, leaning over the sink drooling purple drool, his teeth clenched together and his lips pulled back in a strained smile Rascal simply stated (as clearly as anyone can with a mouth full of purple spit) "This.IsNot.TheResults.IWasExpecting."  I can't remember the last time I laughed that hard.

Also not the results I was expecting?  Our homemade Valentines.  They looked great but were a huge mistake.  Here's why...

One of the things that I hate about our new school is the total lack of communication tools shared with parents. I am used to schools with class rosters with phone numbers and emails, and for whatever reason, our new school feels it's a violation of people's privacy to distribute any information about families.  It's ridiculous.  There are a couple of kids in both Domino and Rascal's classes that they'd like to have playdates with - but those kids are "daycare" kids.  The parents barely stop their cars in the loading zone outside the school in the morning for drop off, and the kids are shuffled to the Boys & Girls Club after school until the parents come get them after work.  It makes it impossible to communicate with anyone that you'd like to have a playdate with their kid.

I thought I had outsmarted the system.  I had the boys put our phone number on the Valentines we made.  The kids would bring them home, the parents would see them and think "Hey, what a cool Valentine!  Would you like to have a playdate with that boy? You would?  Great!  Let's call him right now!"  Except that's not how it went down...

A couple of days after Valentines, the phone rang with a young voice asking for Domino.  "Success!" I thought to myself, giving myself a pat on the back for my brilliance.  Finally, there's a glimmer of hope to make friends outside of school.  We've waited for so long.  Why didn't we give out our number sooner?!

I asked for the boy's name, and he said Sammy.  I passed the phone over to Domino but was very confused.  There's no Sammy in his class.  Who is this kid on the phone for my son?

Domino talked to him for a bit and I grew more and more concerned. The conversation was pleasant enough - but I quickly realized that Domino had NO IDEA who the kid was on the other end of the phone.  This was NOT going the way I planned.  At that point I shut down "operation make a new friend".  What the heck just happened??

I interrogated Domino.  Who is this kid?  How did he get our number??  Who did you give your Valentines to???  All of Domino's answers were to be expected "I don't know.  I have no idea.  Just to the kids in my class."

And then the phone started ringing.  I answered and got no response so I hung up.  A few minutes later, same thing.  Over the course of the next 2 hours I fielded about 20 similar phone calls.  I even looked into getting Caller ID just so I could call this little sh*t back and tell his parents off.  Who in the world lets their kid use the phone unsupervised?!

Cut to the next day, repeat.
And again the following day.
And again the day after that.

After a bit of detective work, I figured out who the boy was and spoke to the school guidance counselor about the problem.  Thankfully, we've had phone silence ever since.

Tonester is furious with me and thinks it was the stupidest idea in the world to give out our number to everyone.  I'm flabbergasted that this has exploded so negatively.  How could such a simple thing of trying to make friends with classmates go so horribly wrong??

I still have no clue how this boy got our phone number.  My guess is he goes to the Boys & Girls Club with others in Domino's class and when kids were going through their Valentine loot, he probably swiped the Valentine and the rest is history.  It is a pretty cool looking Valentine....

I feel like I'm standing in front of the mirror with a mouth full of purple spit.  This.IsNot.TheResults.IWasExpecting.