He’s gonna be a doctor someday

A couple weeks ago I mentioned that my four year old announced the difference between boys and girls was that one had peanuts and the other had a little hole.

Tonite, I’m changing the baby’s diaper. He is nearby, absolutely quiet. When I’m done wiping the poop (it took four wipes, give you an idea about what kind of diaper it was) my son says matter of factly: “I don’t see a little hole.”

A Feast Party

Today my first grader had his Thanksgiving Feast. You know, the traditional have turkey and gravy the tuesday week before Thanksgiving?

So, of course, since we are still adjusting to the new tradition of Tuesday before the week of thanksgiving feast, my wife gave him a Lunchable this morning. This is the third day this year he has taken his lunch.

I get an e-mail about 10:00 AM: “It would be great if you could go eat lunch with him. Obviously I can’t as I am teaching all day.” So I look at the calendar and there it is, the Feast.

I leave the office with just enough time to make it there. You have to sign in at the office, and I remembered to do that, too. Not that anybody checks, but you get the nifty “HELLO! MY NAME IS illegible” nametag. Mine was blue.

I look around, I see some first graders but apparently things are running behind. His first grade class finally comes down the sidewalk and he is beaming when he sees me. “Why are you here?” Well, I thought we could eat lunch. There are other parents around, meeting up with their kids, so he accepted that explanation. While we are waiting our turn to go into the actual building (his school is a dozen buildings or so with walkways between them, so the cafeteria is by itself, his classroom is down the hill and aways off, the office is near the cafeteria in a building with the library, etc.) Anyway, we’re waiting to go in, and there is the obvious hubbub of grown ups everywhere and the kids are abuzz.

“It’s a party!” my son exclaims.

“No, it’s a feast.” corrects one of his cohorts.

“It’s a Feast Party.” my son decides. Okay, then, it’s a Feast Party.

When I bought my ticket, I glanced into their cash box and saw they had about six quarters. Lunch costs $2.50 (not bad, for a Feast and all) and unlike many of the Just-Came-From-The-ATM parents, I had some singles, but no change. I insisted to the nice mom manning the cash box that she keep the change, no doubt she would need it as the day wore on. I told her I’d get extra gravy.

They finally tell us we can go inside, and my son scurries ahead, with the other kids that brought their lunch. (did I mention he brought his lunch? he did) I quickly realize that a)the lunch line is moving way slow since the stupid parents can’t get their lunch as fast as the six year olds that are used to the system and 2)my ADD son is going to freak trying to figure out how to save me a seat and then worry about where I went and why it is taking so long; it we never an option (to him) to save the lunchable for another day and get the turkey and gravy. So I found another friend who was waiting in line with HER son and asked her if she had bought a ticket yet – no? Here, please have mine. She was flustered “No cash, I can write you a check…” Nah. Next year? You can buy me a feast.

So my son and I sat together, and we talked, and he had his lunchable, and he even had one slice of cheese that he didn’t want so that became my Feast. And it was good.

Voices. In my head.

Here’s today’s funny list of shit I found somewhere else…

  1. Okay, okay! I take it back. Unfuck you.
  2. You say I’m a bitch like it’s a bad thing.
  3. Well this day was a total waste of make-up.
  4. Well, aren’t we a damn ray of sunshine?
  5. Don’t bother me; I’m living happily ever after.
  6. Do I look like a people person?
  7. This isn’t an office. It’s hell with fluorescent lighting.
  8. I started out with nothing and still have most of it left.
  9. Therapy is expensive. Popping bubble wrap is cheap. You choose.
  10. Why don’t you try practicing random acts of intelligence and senseless acts of self-control?
  11. I’m not crazy. I’ve been in a very bad mood for 30 years.
  12. Sarcasm is just one more service I offer.
  13. Do they ever shut up on your planet?
  14. I’m not your type. I’m not inflatable.
  15. Stress is when you wake up screaming and you realize you haven’t gone to sleep yet.
  16. Back off!! You’re standing in my aura.
  17. Don’t worry. I forgot your name too.
  18. I work 45 hours a week to be this poor.
  19. Not all men are annoying. Some are dead.
  20. Wait…I’m trying to imagine you with a personality.
  21. Chaos, panic and disorder… my work here is done.
  22. Ambivalent? Well, yes and no.
  23. You look like crap. Is that the style now?
  24. Earth is full. Go home.
  25. Aw, did I step on your poor little bitty ego?
  26. I’m not tense, just terribly, terribly alert.
  27. A hard-on doesn’t count as personal growth.
  28. You are depriving some village of an idiot.
  29. If assholes could fly, this place would be an airport.