I REALLY, really, really, really, really, really, really, really hate harvest festival.

I know. Seems extreme. After all, it is, on the surface at any rate, an entirely kind hearted and lovely tradition. But I hate it.

School was supposed to be a place I could, basically, put my kids and forget about them. In a nice way. Unfortunately there’s more to it than that. There’s quite a lot to keep track of. There’s the homework, which I am expected to do with them. I already know how to read. Admittedly my mental arithmetic could use work, but frankly I’m unlikely to get any better at it now.

Then there’s all the remembering. It’s called “admin” apparently. Dates. Events. Consent forms. Food options. Voluntary contributions. What do you think voluntary contributions are? Voluntary?

My wife is brilliant at that kind of thing, but even she has balked. She’s passed all school admin over to me. She’s pretty clever but that isn’t that bright, frankly.

I have launched myself at the sea of trivial things with a steely determination. Individually they may not seem important, but together, as a whole, they are more important, presumably. And I am absolutely determined to vanquish this many headed hydra of many, many not very important things.

Surprisingly I successfully remember a number of things. I hand in forms on or before the deadline. I know. I’m amazing. I start to think maybe this admin stuff ain't so hard. I’m crushing it!

My wife returns from the school run. “It was harvest festival.” She says darkly. “Everyone had lovely, decorated boxes full of harvest festival contributions. Did you know anything about that?”. She gives me a terrifying look.

My heart stops. “Oh I see.” My brain tells me. “This is why admin is important."