I’ve just arrived home after doing my monthly tuckshop duty at my son’s school. And by monthly, I mean those months when I can’t manufacture a plausible excuse for wagging. (BTW, being school-related, wagging is a totally appropriate term for getting out of tuckshop.)

Still, instead of looking at it as 6 hours I’ll never get back, I have decided to make productive use of today’s tuckshop duty.  For those who are new to it, I have prepared the definitive guide to doing tuckshop.

A couple of notes first:

1. I live in Brisbane. We call it tuckshop here, which abbreviates nicely to tucky. You may call it canteen. Canteen has no acceptable abbreviation. Canty is stupid.
2. Most tuckshop volunteers are mothers. I will be using the term “tuckshop mums’. Please look away if you are a Tuckshop dad/aunt/grandmother/gestational carrier…

So, here we go:

1. There is a reason it’s called “duty”. Notice how it is referred to as “doing tuckshop” or “being on tuckshop”. It’s no coincidence that the same terminology is applied to “doing time”, “being on parole”…
2. You will be filled with eager anticipation the first time you do tuckshop duty. You will be filled with dread every month thereafter.
3. There are two kinds of tuckshop convenors. The first (and most common) is called Colleen or similar, and is scary as shit. Colleen has been there for 18 years, and anyone who suggests changes to the way things are done is, as my Grandpa used to say, suffering from stupidity. Colleen directs proceedings from a vinyl stool next to the pie warmer. Colleen will give a clip over the ear to any boy who doesn’t remove his hat when he enters the tuckshop.
   

   "Colleen"

4. The other type of convenor is called Felicity or similar, and volunteered to take over  when Colleen retired. Felicity will name the tuckshop “the Classroom Cafe” and have a logo designed. Felicity will have the enthusiasm of a Masterchef judge – “Come on girls, let’s shake up this school!” As a result of replacing sausage rolls with quinoia wraps, Felicity will last one term.
   

   "Felicity"

5. There will be one tucky mum who will drive you mental because she won’t shut up.
6. Even though you totally support the Red/Orange/Green food system, you will be desperately disappointed that tuckshops no longer sell Space Bars, Boston Buns or Sunny Boy Glugs.
7. Your child will appear at the counter 13 times for food for himself and his friends. This will come to approximately $79 by the end of the day.
8. You will spend another $13 making up the deficit for kids who are 10c short for their lunch.
9. You will be stupidly excited that you get to use the teacher’s toilet.
10. You will spend an inordinate amount of time perving at the hot Year 6 teacher. He will have been born in the 90s.
11. No-one will buy the homebaked stuff.
12. At least 3 kids will bring in their orders after you’ve finished bagging them up.
13. 1 order will have no money in it. Colleen will say “Bad luck. He has to learn.” Felicity will pay for it herself.
14. 2 orders will have no names on them.
15. You will have a hotdog for lunch.
16. One smartarse kid will pay for a 50c ice block with a $100 note. Obviously you will give him his change in 5c pieces.
17. The kids will call you “Miss”, and you will feel about 100.
18. The money from the kids will be sticky.
19. You will sell an apple Popper 200 times, but you will not remember the price.
20. You will need a calculator to add up $1.70 and 90c.
21. You will come away with important intelligence on teachers and other parents. And therein lies the reason for doing tuckshop.

What can you add to the list?