Welcome back to “How Should I Know?”—the advice column that you want to stay at least six feet away from, according to the CDC.

Dear Mordechai,

Why do parents keep complaining about homeschooling, as if they’re doing it all themselves? Aren’t the teachers all Zooming or whatever?

G.S.

Dear G.,

Yes, for the most part, they still have school. But for example, most of my kids’ schools use teleconferencing systems, which is where the kids all call a number at a certain time, and the number is busy. But eventually, they get through, and the teacher says the lesson into the phone, while the kids absently do what all of us do when we’re on the phone for 40 minutes with someone who won’t stop talking: Walk around the house.

And when they’re off the phone, they need something to do. They can’t go play with their friends. And I have to work, too, you know. So mostly they entertain themselves by making noise, asking for food and trying to injure themselves in the backyard.

“I don’t want to have to take you to the hospital right now!” my wife yells out the window.

Her yelling isn’t helping me either.

I feel like, somehow, I’ve become a vice principal to a small, hilariously underfunded school. All day long, I’m reminding kids to go to class, yelling at them to stop roaming the building during class, breaking up fights, printing out lessons and saying, “No running in the hallways!” “No, you can’t go on the roof for recess!” “Get to Mincha.” “Daven Maariv.” And like a vice principal, I only know a passable amount about each subject, yet I’m roped in to substitute a lot anyway because I’m there and I’m an adult.

Plus I’m always doing dishes. And it’s always the same dishes. I used to do dishes once a day, after supper. Now, every single day we run completely out of milchig spoons by lunchtime. Not to mention that we’re buying more milk and eggs than ever, and everywhere I walk, I keep crunching on things. Usually cereal. No matter how many times I sweep.

Are they eating more than they used to? Everyone eats the same amount, regardless of where they are, right?

Wrong. Of course they’re eating more. You know that constant battle you have with yourself when you’re working at home that you shouldn’t just eat because you’re bored? What do you think happens when all your kids are home all day?

Also, in general, every moment that kids are awake, they’re generating messes. So what happens if all their waking time is spent at home?

And there’s no accountability. If everyone’s home, you never know who left the crackers open, you never know who put away an open box of Rice Krispies upside down and you can’t yell, “Who did this?” loud enough for everyone in the house to hear because everyone’s on the phone. You have to question each kid individually. Who has time for that, on top of everything else?

It’s not fair. We’re still paying tuition, and I get that the teachers are still teaching, but what’s the janitor doing? He’s not making house calls.

So basically, I’m a vice principal who also janits.

And by the way, after years of having principals talk down to me about how if my kids had better breakfasts, they would pay better attention in class, today one of my kids had eggs and noodles and a half a loaf of bread, and he’s still dancing around during class.

Dear Mordechai,

On the cover of your most recent book, “They’re Asking Me?” [which came out in December, and shows a mock-up of a desk with letters and Post-its everywhere], there is a Post-it note on your monitor that says, “Buy more sanitizer.” How did you know so far in advance that this item would be off the shelf?—DBM

Dear D,

The short answer is, I might be a navi.

I mean, I’m not proclaiming to be a navi, so put your torches down, but I do have a column in which people write in with questions, yet I don’t have semicha, I don’t have any kind of doctorate or anything… The only thing that can possibly qualify me to answer your questions is if I am indeed a navi. It would definitely answer the question people always ask me of “How do you know what goes on in my home that you write about it so accurately? Are you hiding in my closet?”

Nowadays, definitely no.

Also, I once wrote about how crammed people’s closets are, so as far as I know, there’s no room in your closet. Apparently, I’m just a navi.

See, I didn’t know this. I think a lot of people are low-level nevi’im. Basically, I’m one of those low-level nevi’im who’s sometimes right about future events that don’t matter so much, but who’s wrong a lot too and doesn’t know ahead of time which things he’ll be right or wrong about.

It’s not that useful, practically speaking.

The weird thing is that I did not write “buy more sanitizer” as if I’m just constantly buying sanitizer. I guess I was trying to let everyone know. And in fact, there’s also a letter on the cover that’s written on a couple of squares of toilet paper. So I try.

I guess the question now is, is everything on the cover put there for some kind of mystical reason, unknown even to me? Why did I write a second Post-it note that says, “Buy fortune cookies?” What’s coming up that has to do with that?

Also, don’t fortune cookies come from China?

Have a question for “How Should I Know?” You’ll have to tell me what it is. It’s not like I’m a navi.

Mordechai Schmutter is a freelance writer and a humor columnist for Hamodia and other magazines. He also has seven books out and does stand-up comedy. You can contact him at [email protected].