I have just become a member of my local branch of the National Autistic Society (NAS) and I'll be responsible for communications! Yay! I desperately needed a purpose in my post-redundancy existence and this is it. I have, however, sat on (not literally ...) at least two committees before, so let me tell you all about my past experiences.
When I was pregnant with Ted (well, I have only been pregnant once, so of course it was with him ...) me and [my husband] Bob signed up for antenatal classes at our local branch of the National Childbirth Trust (NCT). They were pretty rubbish by the way and if your idea of fun is replicating the experience of changing a small baby's nappy by cleaning English mustard off of a doll's arse with cotton wool and water, then go ahead - it'll only set you back £400 or whatever the retail price rise is. Anyway, I joined the local committee and soon rose to become joint chair (in reality, I don't think that anyone else was interested in the position). I think that I only served for about six months though because I returned to work part-time in London when Ted was eleven months old and no longer had the time and energy to put into the role. I didn't regret throwing in the towel, as it just wasn't me anyway and I'll be brutally honest, the sheer lack of any semblance of humour about anything was just grinding me down. There was a very funny moment at a 'Nearly New Sale' though. We were cleaning out the fridge at the end of the session and there was a tub of Olivio Spread left - the former chair's long-haired middle class son uttered: "that's not ours mummy - we don't have butter substitutes in the house!"
When Ted was in Reception Class at his current primary school, the Chairwoman persuaded me to join the Parents' Association Committee (our school doesn't have a PTA and I've never fully got the bottom of why the teachers aren't involved ...?) I stayed for about three years, but I cannot, hand on heart, say that I enjoyed helping out at any of the events though, as I always found it an awful trial. A number of parents in the school couldn't be bothered to join the committee or help out at all, but felt justified in moaning about costs and believing that the volunteers were there to provide free childcare whilst they sat around on their lazy bottoms and perused their bejewelled smartphones. I'm no burning martyr, so sod that for a game of soldiers. I must admit that one of my pet hates in life is being told off and that happened a few times. How about giving me the correct instructions at the beginning of the event and not fanny around, eh? Also, a fellow parent pushed me out of the way when I was trying to look at the collection (parliament?) of owls somebody was exhibiting at the Summer Fete. Sod that. I resigned after the Christmas Concert Incident of 2013 and have never returned. [My husband] Bob remains the treasurer though.