Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Whiffle Balls and Fried Eggs and Mosquito Bites

The other day, Olivia informed me that she wanted a bra.

She is nine and the skinniest thing you've ever seen - she won't need a bra at this rate for another ten years.

We discussed and that there was a possibility that when she was ten that we would purchase said item. She says, "Oh, wait, you've gotta see this!" and runs upstairs. She comes back down with two whiffle ball halves in her shirt and says, "Maybe when I get a bra I'll put these in there!"

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Putting our collective heads in the sand

A few weeks ago, for the sixth grader, there was a TALK at school. Not just a TALK but THE TALK. Because we live in Texas and because they are in the sixth grade it was a lovely scary talk about how you shouldn't have sex before you are married because if you do, your thing will fall off. You know the one - about all the terrible diseases you can get and all the lovely completely not appropriate things they are putting in my poor little geeky son's head. STOP IT.

I digress. I went to the parent education portion on Tuesday, the kid's talk was on Friday. The Friday before a long vacation, mind you, the tricksters. So about Thursday, I work up the courage to say something to the kid. Casually, in the kitchen, while he's having a snack and cannot escape.

Me: So they're going to talk about sex tomorrow at school. What do you think about that? (Why beat around the bush, right?)
Charlie: (complete silence.)
Me: I went to a meeting about it the other night. The guy was funny.
Charlie: (crinkling paper, avoiding eye contact)
Me: Come on, Mitchell's mom said that when they did the game he wasn't the guy who got the disease, all the girls did. (Nice one, mom)
Charlie: MOM. Stop. I've just decided that I'm going to avoid it. All of it. Stop already.
Me: Fine. Let me know when you've decided to stop avoiding it and want to talk.

Can we please go back to explaining easier things now? Like nuclear science?

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Never Fails.

The worms crawl in
The worms crawl out
The worms play pinochle on your snout

They eat your eyes
They eat your nose
They eat the jelly between your toes

Your stomach turns a ghastly green
The pus comes out like thick whipped cream

You slap it on a piece of bread
And that's what you eat when you're dead!

That song can gross out eight year olds, gets the thirteen year olds, too.

Thanks mom!