FREAKING MERMAIDS!

Does anyone know of any books or movies (that are kid-appropriate...) that portray mermaids as ugly, evil, wretched, vile things???

My kid longs...LOOOONGS to be a mermaid.  It's all she can think about, and I can't convince her that she will never be a mermaid.  Even if God Himself visited her and said, "I am God, and I made you a human, and you will never EVER turn into a mermaid because I never made mermaids," she would not believe Him.  Not because he speaks in run-ons, so how could He possibly be the real deal?, but because she has seen mermaids on TV, SO. THEY. ARE. REAL! 

And she knows how she can turn into one. 

"How," you ask?

Step One: Ask your Nana to make you a mermaid tail from beautiful pink fabric. 

Step Two: While you wait for your tail, spend as much time as possible practicing your mermaid kick.  (AKA dolphin kick for you human swimmers out there.)  Reading a book before bedtime? Mermaid kick.  Laying on the floor watching TV?  Mermaid kick.  At swimming lessons?  Mermaid kick (even when you're told not to and you get kicked out of the pool).  Setting the table?  Mermaid kick - which looks like belly-dancing because she's standing up... 

When do you NOT mermaid kick?  When you're told to "BE STILL!"  Then, practice sitting how a mermaid would sit on a rock.

Step Three: Find a volcano, by an ocean, that is the right temperature inside.

Step Four: Wear your bikini (because cool mermaids ALWAYS show their midriff).

Step Five: Wait until the full moon, then JUMP INTO THE VOLCANO!

Here's where I had to intervene.  It went something like this:

Me: Alright.  If you jump into a volcano, you will DIE.

Her: No I won't.

Me: Yes.  They are filled with lava.  You will die instantly.

Her: (As convicted as any person might be)  Not if it's the right temperature!

Me: *speechless*

I know, I know.  She sounds like a character from Girl, Interrupted right? 

HELP!!!!!

Bathroom Graffiti

I had the honor of attending a  luncheon with my family at a restaurant at the Beltway and Beechnut.  Truly an interesting part of town, so the fact that it had bathroom graffiti was...well...it was not surprising.  While the food was decent, the bathroom graffiti was the real treat du jour! 

I'm sure I became the talk of the table when I kept getting up and taking my  phone to the bathroom.  (I did this for you, reader, because I love you.)  So much to take in in one, ahem, sitting.  AND I almost got busted taking photos (with flash) in the stall when another restaurant patron walked in.  "Creepster is the new Hipster."  Pass it on.

I'd like to pose two statements/questions that cover almost all of these works of art. First, lawmakers might consider poor phonetic spelling of baby's names a Class B Misdemeanor.  Qs weren't really meant to be used THAT much.  Second, WHY do so many people carry permanent markers??  And why do those people think it's okay to write on walls?  Why??  I have lived to see 34 without EVER writing on some one's wall - well, except when I was three, and my mom told me I'd have to find a new home if I didn't quit that shit immediately.  (I'll share that story some other time.)

Alright.  Without further ado, here are the pictures and my commentary on this first edition of "Bathroom Graffiti".

Not sure about Tweety's use of symbols.  Maybe she's sneering at me.  Maybe she's almost a feminist...if. those two. plus signs. will. just. touch. the. circles. of. LIIIIIIFE!  I already like her, but that blob next to her artwork cried a little bit.  See the tear?

Look at these two BFFs complimenting each other on the bathroom wall.  "[Ber]anna's the best."  "No, girl.  You are.  'Qaliya got swag'."  "Hold up.  Let's go get these made into tattoos!"  "I'll call Tweety!" "Naw.  That hoe is practically a feminist."

       
Oh yeah?  I <3 albert moost.  *smh* Canadians...

I'm going to need y'all to agree how to spell "Zayn".  Just zayin.  Az far az uzing "z" in playz of "s", I think it's charming...zaid no one ever.

Please.  Someone volunteer to give me a post-mortem, bathroom wall shout-out. Please. (You may volunteer to do so in the "Comments" section of this blog.)

AND FINALLY...

Do this.  Not because I say so, but because the Wing-ed Bear Head says so.  (By the way, this is one worthy of MY calf.)

Until next time...Keep thoze Sharpies sharp!!!

My observations

Sears needs an updated logo.  This late-eighties-neon-esque look will not do. 
 

The afternoon weather report on News 92 FM starts off, "This is MEATEATER-OLOGIST, John Dugowinski..."  What is a "meateater-ologist"?  I searched www.Google.com/images for that exact word, and here's what I found:

I'm guessing my "Filter Explicit Results" filter is on.  But my "Filter Creepy-Shit" filter is not.

McDonald's' food is a crime against humanity...except during Monopoly season.  Then, it is just fun because everyone wants to be a winner.  Are you "PEELIN' LUCKY?"  I am.

"Mayor Weiner" is a terrible idea unless a) his Chief of Staff's name is Mr. Oscar, b) they are always together, and c ) everyone addresses them with "Mr. Oscar, Mayor Weiner..."  Also, he looks like the bad guy from Ghost, so I don't like him.  WHO hires a man to kill Patrick Swayze?  I mean, seriously??

Rediculous Weekend

Ted is a rediculous movie.  Yet I watched the whole thing and laughed.  Shame on me.

In other rediculousness, I had to break the news to my seven-year-old that she can never be a real mermaid.  Not even if she looks at the moon while she is swimming in the ocean...(Wtf did she get that idea?) She still does not believe me.  Thank goodness my mom is going to help the situation by making her a life-like mermaid tail to wear in the bathtub.

Oh my gawd.  I'm thinking in Ted's voice.  This is terrible. 

And finally, my kids absolutely do not believe that "Jennifer" has been my first name my whole life. Rediculous.  They told me that if I was their kid, they would have named me "Sunshine of the Flowers of the Whole Universe Barbie Transformer Mermaid." Wow did I luck out or what?  But I would have loved to go by "Sunshine."

Friend Rules by My 7-Year Old

These are "Friend Rules" and advice as told to my 4-year-old by her big "stister" because she was having drama with her friend at pre-school.  

Background: This little friend yelled, "HUSH, GIRL!  HUSH!" in B's face and then wouldn't play with her for the rest of the day.  After many tears and much heartbreak, her sister came up with this list of rules:

First Rule Number One: Be nice to each other.

Second Rule: Do not hurt one uh-other.

Round Three: Be good and be nice and not hurt each other.

Round Seve-...Round One...Round Four: Be careful to each udders and others.

Round Five: Do not hurt anybody.

Round Six: Do NOOOOT eben put...Do not hurt anybody or others. Be kind to others.

Round Seven: Do NOT DO NOT hurt anybody.

Round Seven...Round Eight: You have to be kind.

Round Nine: Say "Look over there!  There's a butterfly!" and run away.

Round Seven...Round Ten: Run away if they are not nice.

Yes: these are quoted. No: she's not drunk. No: she didn't learn these from me. Well, maybe the distract-her-with-a-butterfly idea... Yes: it appears her favorite number is seven. Because she IS seven.

Such a nice list of suggestions...Much nicer than mine.  I taught B how to say, "Callate!" (cai-yet-te) since this friend speaks Spanish.  That way, she won't get in trouble for actually saying "Shut up!" which is a "bad word"...but only in English. 

My parenting advice book is due to be published next year. LOOK!  A giant butterfly!!

 

Would someone please come get my "Mom Card"?

It's not that I don't love being a mother.  I REALLY love my kids.  It's that sometimes I don't think I'm cut out for this.  Surely other mothers have felt this way.  -ish.  I'm hoping. 

Anyway, take today for example.  We get home, let the dogs outside, and my 7-year-old discovers some lizards doing the boomshakalaka on her little rocking chair.  How do I handle it?  Much like you'd expect Lilith from "Cheers" to handle it (Frasier's wife, remember her?) 

Kid:  Look, mom!  Lizards on my chair!  Uh...what are they doing?

Me:  They're copulating.  Leave them alone.

Kid:  Cop-a-lating? 

Me:  Yes.  They're making baby lizards.  Leave them be.

Kid:  Sister!  Come here and see these lizards!

Kid2:  Wow!  That green lizards is biting the brown lizard.  Let's stop him.

Me:  No!  Let's let them copulate in peace and quiet. 

Just when I thought I had made it out alive...

Kid2:  What's that mean?

Me:  Making baby lizards.  Inside.  Now.

Kid2:  Did you know lizards poop babies?  They poop them out of their butts. 

Me: Nap time.  Let's go.


I sure hope my kids grow up to be normal adults.  If they don't, I only have myself to blame.

My underappreciated feminist side

Today, I had a great idea while on the phone with my husband.  We were discussing salary differences between men and women.

Me:  Ugh!  I either need to get my MBA or grow a penis.  I think I will move away and become a half-naked vegan feminist and fight for women's right.  

J:  Would you really abandon your kids?

Me:  No.  You're right.  I'll take them with me.  They'll be little half-naked vegan feminists, too.  Might as well start them young.  

J:  Mmhmm.

Me:  I know!  I know, you can come, too!  You can be a half-naked vegan MAN who fights for women's rights.  You'll be on the cunting edge.  You'll be like the white guy at the March on Washington, but that's good because you'll stand out.   

Silence

J:  Did you mean to use that word?

Me:  Of course I did....Okay, well, I'll go get the kids.

I guess I will have to fight for women's rights fully clothed here from home.