September 6, 2010
Labour Day?
I don't think so.
Try Laundry Day!
Four loads of laundry, washed, hung up to dry, brought in, and then folded and put away.
If anyone in this house complains about not having any clean clothes, especially panties, I'm gonna hang them on the line.
Along side my table cloth size granny panties.
Stephen hangs underwear on the line, however, he hangs them in front of something else, usually shirts.
That way, no one can see them when they are driving or walking on Bliss Street.
Because apparently, our neighbours are fascinated with whether or not Stephen and Keith wear boxers or briefs.
And whether or not Emily and I wear thongs.
I tried a thong.
Once.
It was when Stephen and I were first dating, and I was *trying* to be sexy and demure.
(I know, I have scarred several readers for the rest of their lives. Sorry.)
All I got was a night of hauling the string part out of my ass.
And then, if it wasn't bad enough that I looked like a elementary school girl who had to pee, the seam of my pants split.
(And not because they were too tight!)
So, there I am, picking out butt floss and holding the back of my pants together.
All the while trying to be sexy.
And demure.
With my ass cheeks desperately trying to make a public appearance.
The thongs have been in my drawer ever since.
I suppose I could use them for dusting, or scrubbing the floor.
Even the lure of new cable couldn't keep me and Em out of the movie theater today.
I exercised vigourously yesterday, plus entertained the smelly, beer bellied cable guy who wore his shirt loose, and had enough top buttons undone to show his less than attractive chest hair.
My breakfast wanted to make its own public appearance, but I fought back.
At the tender age of ten, while enjoying at day at Mactaquac Beach with my Mum and brother (my dad was playing golf. I realize now that he took us to the beach so he could aussage his guilt over playing the Mactaquac golf course), I was horrifically traumatized.
Its haunts to me this day.
It was a hot, hot day. Lots of people on the beach. People wearing bathing suits they had no business wearing.
Unless you're an Olympic swimmer, or on a swim team, you SHOULD NOT be wearing a Speedo.
Or a Speedo thong.
But that is a story for another day.
And I saw a man, who I thought was wearing shirt.
It was not a shirt, unless hair shirts count.
This man was covered in body hair. Dark, lush, thick body hair.
I had nightmares for weeks.
To this day, I struggle with looking at excessively hairy men.
So the cable guy was traumatizing for me on so many different levels.
I did all the laundry and tackled homemade spaghetti sauce because we have been given so many wonderful, fresh garden tomatoes this week that even Stephen and Mer couldn't eat them all.
In my mind, I deserved a movie.
We saw Going the Distance.
Thankfully, I didn't have to pay for it, otherwise I would have been very unhappy.
A renter, perhaps. The odd funny line.
But other than that, no redeeming qualities.
I ran into one of my students, Nolan, who was also in this horrific movie.
He was with his girlfriend.
As we were leaving, I looked at her and said, "He must like you. Alot."
On our way home from the movie, we passed Bliss Carman Middle School, and Em commented that the grade 9 students would be experiencing their first day of high school tomorrow.
Emily, on the other hand, is going into grade 11 and is a seasoned veteran of high school.
We talked about how nervous the soon-to-be-highschool students must be feeling, and reflected on the Em's first day of highschool.
And then Em filled me in on her interpretation of High School Heirarchy.
The grade 12s are human, because they are at the top of the high school food chain. They are all powerful, and can take anyone out, should they choose.
Grade 11s are lions. Not as powerful as the grade 12s, but able to hold their own, knowing that in a year's time, they will have earned their place at the top.
I then asked her about the Grade 10s. What were they?
Antelope. The horns provide them with some protection, however, they can be eaten by the lions and the humans.
Grade 9s: grass.
Walked all over because they are at the bottom of the food chain. They have to struggle to survive and slowly climb their way to the top.
I then asked her how she was feeling about being a human next year, when she is in Grade 12.
She's not going to be human.
She's going to be an elephant.
Because they have 4 knees.
I didn't get it either.
Title Lyric: Grade 9 by the Barenaked Ladies
No comments:
Post a Comment