Tax-Free Weekend: A Travesty for the Privileged

Ah, the sacred Texas Tax-Free Weekend—a time when the great unwashed masses descend upon our pristine retail establishments to claw at discounted school supplies like ravenous wolves. As a mother of three (all honor students, naturally), I must say, the sheer audacity of the state expecting us to endure this annual ritual is nothing short of barbaric. Do they not realize we have Pilates classes to attend?

Let’s break this down, shall we? For three glorious days, the plebeians among us can purchase binders and crayons without the burden of sales tax. Meanwhile, my personal shopper at Neiman Marcus still charges full price for monogrammed backpacks. Where’s the justice?

And don’t even get me started on the qualifying items list. Blackboard chalk? Really? Who even uses chalk anymore? This isn’t 1952. If my children’s teachers aren’t using smartboards, I’m filing a complaint with the PTA. And lunch boxes? Please. My children’s organic, gluten-free, non-GMO, artisanal meals are delivered daily by a private chef. A lunch box is beneath them.

But the real insult? No tax exemption for computers. Excuse me, but how exactly are my children supposed to code their start-ups if their MacBook Pros aren’t tax-free? This is an outrage. I’ve already drafted a strongly worded email to the comptroller’s office—cc’d to my HOA, of course.

And let’s talk about the online shopping loophole. The idea that some bargain-hunter can click their way to tax-free glory from the comfort of their McMansion while I’m forced to navigate the unwashed hordes at the mall is an affront to decency. Next year, I’m lobbying for a gated community exemption—if you live behind a security checkpoint, you should get year-round tax-free privileges.

In conclusion, while the common folk scramble for their $0.99 glue sticks, I’ll be busy ensuring my children’s Ivy League applications are flawless. Because let’s be honest—if your back-to-school shopping involves scissors under $100, you’re already failing at life.

Heather Worthington is a freelance columnist and full-time martyr to the cause of keeping Westlake pretentious pristine. Her latest book, ‘Why Can’t Everyone Just Be More Like Me?’ is available at boutique bookstores nowhere near you.