Surreality Bites

(I can show you the teeth marks)

Thank you, Basketcaselady!
Duckface
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basketcaselady, thank you for the Tinfoil Hat. Finally, I have something to block the voices in my head when they get too loud. I will wear it proudly on my profile page. :D

Comedy and Drama
Bite Me
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I took my 6-year-old son to see the animated film Rio last weekend. There was one line in the movie that made me laugh to the point that I almost fell out of my seat, but it didn’t strike the rest of the audience as all that funny. When I realized I was the only one laughing, I tried to keep quiet, but my shoulders still shook with silent laughter as I sank down in my seat with my hand clasped tightly over my mouth so that no sound would escape.

Art Imitates LifeCollapse )

Tuesday – Beware Of Ninjas
Motherhood
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“Where do ninjas learn to be ninjas?” I asked my son.

He was holding a one-inch-tall red ninja warrior made of Legos that had arrived unassembled in Sweet Pea’s Easter basket. Now the tiny assassin had been put together, and it had spent the evening menacing the toy plush gray cat that Sweet Pea does not like and insists that I sleep with so he doesn’t have to (he does not want it hanging out with his other toys).

Lego Ninja


Where Assassins Learn Their ABCsCollapse )
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Thursday – Pump It Up, But Turn It Down
Motherhood
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I met my son’s fiancée this last Saturday at the party for her 6th birthday. She seems like a nice little girl. A bit goofy looking, but judging by how pretty her mother is, I suspect she will be very attractive once she grows into her features.

“Are you [Sweet Pea’s] mom?” the mother of the birthday girl greeted me, “Mallory talks about him all the time at home. She tells me she’s going to marry him when she grows up.”

“He mentioned that to me,” I told her with a smile. I didn’t mention that he is not yet ready to commit to her daughter. There are so many little girls at his school that he’s not sure which one he will marry, he has confided to me. I told him he doesn’t have to pick one for a couple more decades, and not to rush. There is a good change (say 99.9%) that he will marry someone who he does not go to Kindergarten with. But his world is very small right now, and he has no way to imagine how many people (including girls) he will meet as he makes his way through his life. Right now the dozen or so girls in his class are overwhelming enough to him.

Sweet Pea SyndomeCollapse )

Tuesday – Modesty
Father and son
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During his bath the other night my 6-year-old son gave me this lesson on modesty and how civilized people should dress when out in public: "My back is not private. Only my willy and my bottom are private. But not my back or my tummy."

He paused. "Still, it’s nice to wear a shirt."


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Thursday – The Marketing Team
Work
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“Sleep? I don’t need sleep. I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Penny said with a grin.

“If I don’t sleep, I feel dead,” I told her. Penny, the newest member of my department at work, is a walking contradiction in terms. She’s a fashion-conscious Pentecostal fitness freak, a scary good liar, and wicked prankster. Before I met her, I had no idea that a person could be all of those things at once. She gets up at 4 AM to go to the gym each day, works a full 8 hour day, attends church twice a week, raises a daughter on her own, and still has time for friends and family.

As for me, I work full-time, raise a child with the help of a spouse, and don’t have time for much else. All I want to do is sleep lately. I don’t have time to write or do much of anything else. I am drained. I’m not even sure why I’m so drained. The house is in shambles. My son eats way too much pasta, but I’m a big fan of dinners that can be boiled and served in less than 10 minutes (fortunately, so is he). When I’m dead, I’ll be happy for the sleep.Collapse )
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Wednesday – The Morning After
Duckface
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Sometimes, you do go to be angry at your spouse despite the advice that you should not. A good night’s sleep is sometimes needed for both of you to pointlessness of a big argument you had when you were both tired and cranky. On these occasions, the best way to start the day is with an apology, which is why my husband turned to me in bed this morning and said, “I’m sorry about last night. And I want you to know that I don’t really want a divorce.”

I pondered this for a second. “I know, sweetie,” I said, “And just so you know, I don’t really want to shoot you.”

There is something to be said for going to bed angry. Sure, when you are trying to fall asleep it can be inconvenient to have to press yourself against the edge of the bed so that you don’t risk accidentally touching the person you share it with. But eating your words for breakfast is not so bad a start to your day, provided you pour some sugar on them first.


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Tuesday – The Bachelor
Marriage
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I picked Sweet Pea up this evening and he showed me the invitation in his backpack. Mallory, a little girl in his class, is having a birthday party in a few weeks and she wants him to come.

“But I don’t know how to get there!” he cried, putting his hands on the side of his head in distress.

I looked at the invitation, which came with an address and driving directions. “I think I can get you there if you want to go. Do you want to go?”

“Yes. Mallory wants to marry me.”

“She does? How do you know?”

“She told me. She loves me, actually.”

“She does? Goodness. Do you want to marry her?”

He hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. There’s plenty of time to decide who you want to marry. You don’t have to pick someone out of your Kindergarten class. You’re going to meet a lot of girls between Kindergarten and when you’re grown up.”

“Ok.”

“But you can still go to her party and give her a present. Even if you marry someone else.”

“Ok, then. If you think you know how to get there.”

“I think I can find it. I'd like to meet Mallory.”

Jeff has met her, and says she is a very sweet, outgoing little girl. Mallory is one of those kids who never meets a stranger. Why a girl like that proposed marriage to my son, the kid who considers everyone a stranger and who didn't learn the names of any of his classmates until he was all but forced to, is beyond me. I guess it's a testament that opposites attract. Mallory is a ray of sunshine; Sweet Pea is the kid with the "Emotional Disturbance" stamp across his school records.

"Why do good girls like bad boys?" I asked Jeff, and he laughed.

It's a good thing they do, I guess. And if girls want to marry him, he doesn't seem to mind one bit even though, at the age of 6, he is not ready to commit. He's a cautious guy, so this doesn't surprise me in the least.


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Wednesday – And the Little One Was a Big Jerk.
Motherhood
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Sweet Pea was in the tub the other night, and since he still cannot be trusted to wash himself very well (he rubs the washcloth over himself lightly for all of 30 seconds and says he’s done) I was there to scrub him down. He was lying on his elbows and started to turn himself over and over like a turkey on a spit, so that I was washing the front, then the back, then the front, then the back, then the front of the boy. This inspired me to sing.

“There were ten in the bed and the little one said roll over, roll over, so they all rolled over and one fell out. There were nine in the bed and the little one said…”

“Why did the little one say that?” Sweet Pea interrupted

“To make one of the others fall out so there would be more room for him,” I replied.

Sweet Pea frowned. “Why did he keep saying that?”

“So more of them would fall out.”

“Then what did he say?”

Time for a change of management.Collapse )

Monday – At Least We Know What Isn’t Wrong. Maybe.
Motherhood
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The report from the Meyer Developmental Center arrived in the mail over the weekend. The doctor there was kind, but she wasn’t much help. She specializes in ADHD and Autism Spectrum disorders. She thinks my 6 year old is more likely just nuts, and referred us to a psychiatrist to drug him into submission.

“I could write you a prescription for an anti psychotic medication, if you like,” she said sweetly, “But I think you would be better off getting it from a psychiatrist who specializes in these types of conditions.” Not that she could say what my son’s condition is. She also offered to write a prescription for an ADHD stimulant-type drug, if I liked that idea better. Her willingness to let me, a person who has never been to medical school, chose whether my son was prescribed a stimulant or an antipsychotic drug made me trust her judgment about as far as I could pick her up and throw her.

Doctor, doctor, there’s a hole inside my head…Collapse )

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