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“Nice to meet you,” said Karen, nodding.

“And this is Amy, our volunteer coordinator,” Susan went on. “And Deirdre, our member-at-large; Liz, our secretary and interim treasurer; Leigh, our chair of the after-school enrichment program; Kim, our fifth-grade committee chair; Janine, our STEM chair; and Meredith, chair of our arts committee.”

“Great to meet you all,” she said, nodding some more.

“Let me give you a copy of today’s agenda, and here are the minutes from our last meeting.” Susan handed Karen a short stack of white paper. “But before we get to fund-raising”—she turned back to the others—“I want to say a few words about the Olive Oil Initiative, especially for those who missed last month’s general PTA meeting. By all accounts, it’s been a huge success so far. Thanks to PTA funds, the lunchroom now has on reserve two thousand bottles of cold-pressed, extra-virgin Trader Giotto. And our new Culinary Institute of America–trained cooking consultant, Olivier, is busy teaching the old lunchroom staff to cook without Crisco.”

There were murmurs of approval.

“Though let me just say that, from what I understand, it’s been a fairly steep learning curve.” Susan smiled knowingly.

Quiet laughter followed.

“Now, moving on to other topics—I want to propose that we dedicate some emergency funds for lice prevention. This has been a very bad spring for it. I would go so far as to call it a full-scale crisis. And I’d really like to bring in a lice expert to do a presentation about prevention and removal. I’d also like to earmark some PTA money for purchasing some of those large, heavy-duty, self-sealing plastic bags for all of our classrooms so students can place their personal effects inside them before storing in their cubbies or the coat closet. Is this something the rest of you can get behind?”

“Sounds like a great idea to me,” said Leigh, the after-school chair. “The situation is really out of control in Harper’s class.”

“Same deal in Hudson’s,” said Janine, who headed up STEM.

“Well, I’m sorry to rain on everyone’s parade,” began Denise, the vice president, with a pained expression on her face. “But I just have to say—I feel really uncomfortable directing PTA money to the plastics industry. I mean, do we as a school really want to support them? And do we even have proof that plastic bags prevent lice contagion?”

“Denise, as much as I sympathize with what you’re saying,” said Susan, “the lice specialist I spoke with said they were essential for preventing student-to-student transmission. And I think that’s enough to go on. But if others share Denise’s concern, please speak up.”

No one spoke. But Denise wasn’t ready to let it go. “Well, I just think it’s a little hypocritical of us to be launching our fourth-grade green-and-healthy newsletter—never mind our school-lunch recycling campaign and our new food-justice committee—at the same moment we’re sending money to the Ziploc people.”

“Okay, but Denise”—Karen could tell Susan was getting the tiniest bit impatient—“we’re literally talking about seven hundred bags. It’s not like we’re going to affect their business one way or the other or make a dent in our own budget.”

“Fine.” Denise pressed her lips together and grimaced. Then she opened them again. “It’s just—I try really hard to raise my kids in a natural environment. And I just feel like this sends the exact wrong message. I mean, human beings have been getting lice since ancient times. I just don’t see why we can’t try an ancient cure before we resort to zip-lock bags.”

“You mean like leeches?” cut in Liz, the secretary and interim treasurer.

There were snickers. Even Karen found herself suppressing a smile. But Denise remained unamused, shooting Liz a look of wounded fury.

“Ladies, please,” said Susan, clearly the conciliator of the group. “If Denise feels that strongly, why don’t we put the topic of plastic bags away till our next meeting. In the meantime, does everyone approve of bringing in the lice expert for a parent workshop on lice prevention and elimination? All who do, please raise their hands.” Reluctantly, and just as the crown of her head began to itch—paranoia or contagion?—Karen lifted her right hand, as did the rest of the group. Even Denise could be seen halfheartedly raising her arm and opening her palm. “Okay, it’s unanimous,” said Susan. “Now, if anyone else would like to propose some additional spending priorities, please speak. I should add that, legally, and as weird as this might sound, we’re actually required to spend eighty-six thousand before the end of the school year.”

“Well, since we’re on the topic of workshops, I’d love to see the school bring someone in to teach meditation,” began Kim, the fifth-grade committee chair. “The upper-school kids are so stressed out about the upcoming state tests. I think it would really benefit them.”

“Interesting idea,” said Susan. “But forgive me for asking—aren’t most of our fourth-and fifth-graders opting out of the state tests this year?”

“Well, yeah—some of them are,” said Kim, sounding the tiniest bit defensive. “But even the ones who are opting out are freaking out about middle-school admissions.”

“Tell me about it,” said Meredith, chair of the arts committee. “I went on the Middle School for Innovative Inquiries tour last week, and there were literally nine hundred families there for, like, seventy-five spots. It’s harder to get into these places than it is to get into Harvard!”