If I've done this right, here is Big O's interpretation of what death would do on vacation. Bowling and Cotton Candy.
...that Darwin is DEAD? That somewhere along the lines evolution ground to a halt, and we're sliding backwards? Once medical science was able to overcome Survival of the Fittest, and people too stupid to breed were brought back from the brink, it began. When the good ole boy whose last words should have been "hey man, watch this" is saved, and good people die of cancer or car accidents--the balance is out of whack. The gene pool is decidedly cloudy these days.
I won a couple of poetry contests in high school, but I was never
ridiculed and/or traumatized by classmates in the eighth grade over my
poetry (although I probably should have been). It's true that I don't
enjoy poetry at all, though. Except for those Tuesday Work Sucks
Haikus....
I was not the one who superglued the pennies. That was the first bad
boyfriend. But the manager WAS that awful.
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On a separate note, have you tried the new white chocolate M&M's? They
are like little candy coated balls of Crisco to me.
THe dark chocolate ones are keepers, though!
I have gone for regular pap smears since I turned 16. That's twenty
years of awful paper dresses.
I usually go to an Ob-Gyn, but I was getting a physical anyway, and I
was overdue for an exam, so I killed two birds with one copay. My Dr.
is a nice middle aged Filipino lady. But she kept SHOWING me things.
Like everything. She beamed at me as she showed me the swab, and then
the speculum. UGH. She was so excited, and seemed to want to reassure
me that it was all good.
Lady, I'm trying to block this from my brain and pretend it's not
happening. Admittedly, after twenty years and two kids, it's not nearly
as traumatic as it used to be, but it's not a lot of fun, either.
Was it because she doesn't usually do them? Is this standard practice?
It's always been my experience that they cover it all back up
discreetly under something. Maybe it's the difference between male and
female Doctors?
Does anyone else get the show and tell treatment on this lovely, lovely
day?
It's thief week at Did You Ever...
I have cheerfully stolen this meme from CRSE, at that blogosphere Hotspot, Zamphir Panflutemaster. I may steal several of her answers, as well.
1…. Beetlejuice. Guy's girlfriend worked at a bridal gown manufacturer, and had a red lace wedding gown, but he totally ruled. He had a purple velvet tux that was at least two sizes too small, and had filled it with baby powder, so every time he told an awful joke, he would pat himself and dust would fly up...he also stayed in character all night, in spite of copious quantities of alcohol. Come to think of it, maybe that WAS his personality. 2. Spy vs Spy. I made giant paper maiche heads, with black screens for the eyes, and would have OWNED that contest if not for Beetlejuice. Took witch hats and cut the tops off to make proportionate fedoras, painted one white, left the other one black... but we had no schtick. I was lucky to get my boyfriend INTO the costume, let alone be planting bombs all night... I have no pictures of the greatest halloween costume ever. I think it's why I'm so obsessive about getting pictures of the kids in theirs... 3. Jellyfish. I lived in Chico one year, and that is a town that does Halloween right! They were dressed all in black, had clear umbrellas with bubble wrap hanging in strings, with glowing necklaces on. They would just lift the umbrellas up and down as they drifted through the crowd, and they looked like Jellyfish swimming along. The.Coolest.Costume.Ever. 4. The windy guys. Also in Chico. When you go downtown, you just drift from bar to bar in a giant circuit of downtown streets. These guys had their hair gelled back, and their ties and coats wired back, and they made whshh-ing noises as they fought their imaginary wind from one light pole to another. There were four or five of them, I think. Was I just drunk? Because I thought they were hysterical. 5. Tinkerbell. As performed by my 6' 2" brother. He found tights (I can't imagine where), wore a white tank top and shorts, and little white wings. Um, he also carried a baseball bat painted gold with a cardboard star stapled to the end, as his magic wand. 6. Flying Monkey. As NOT performed by my chicken brother. I wanted him to do it Will Ferrell style, with his hairy man belly sticking out with the little bell hop outfit worn by the monkeys in Wizard of Oz and a monky snout, wings and a tail. It would have been sheer genius. 7. St. Paulie Girl. The other Jen made her own costume, and while I only saw the photos, it blew me away--Mind, you and Jen look a little alike, you should find a party and just GO for it! 8. Fed Ex Guy. Okay it WAS in a bar, but he had a box attached to his fly and was asking women if they'd like to sign for his package, and then handed them a clipboard for their name and number. It was pretty funny. 9. Pregnant Nun. In high school, my friend delivered pizzas as a pregnant nun. Dave was outstanding. 10. Maleficent. The baddie from sleeping beauty? A co-worker committed to it and totally rocked--full makeup and black skull cap thing, the works. 11. Angel. I kicked ass on Little O's pirate costume last year, but I loved her Angel costume from the year before bettter. It's killing me to not post a picture. 12. Cowboy. I made Big O a cowboy when HE was two, with felt chaps and a little vest, and I've done way more elaborate costumes for him since then, but nothing beats how easy and great his little felt chaps looked. Maybe I just love two year olds in costumes? 13. The Boss. No, not Springsteen. I hope this year is funny, because I am going as my boss. Technically, I am going as my boss's boss. Everyone's boss. The BIG boss. He has a pretty good sense of humor. I hope. If not, I'm going to have to claim to have been dooced. Blame it on the blog. Links to other Thursday Thirteens! |
My son has been given the curse and blessing of an unusual name. It was my grandfather's name, it is a fine name. It is not the name of your
average bear.
In the course of a boy's life, certain temptations are almost irresistible.
One of these temptations is a pristine piece of wet cement.
Oh, Big O. When your name is as distinctive as yours, a nom de plume is in order.
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One of the Honey's chief complaints about the Ex is that he does not ever make Big O suffer any consequences. I find that the Honey can be a little Draconian in his notions of discipline, and overall, I find that I am usually more in line with the Ex. You can imagine what a big hit this is at home.
My first instinct is to drag Big O by the ear down to public works and make him perform some sort of penance, like dumping out their trash cans or SOMETHING to show him that there are consequences. But wait...in this day and age, they could thank me for my honesty and then slap me with a bill for the signed concrete art.
I'm honest, and I'm civic minded.... and I'm poor.
So I called the ex to ask what he thought an appropriate measure would
be, and sure enough, he thinks a lecture would suffice. Boys will be boys.
I understand that it's a temptation beyond measure to a boy walking home alone from school.
But when he walks by it in the future, I want Big O to wince, and wish that he had not done it, NOT discover the joys of sharpies and start making his mark everywhere. (And may I say that I am terrified that they are going to ask the school about the name and bill me anyway.)
Any recommendations for consequences of boyish behavior? Less than a beating but more than a lecture.
I hate it when the Honey is right.