That Was Your Mother

First of all, I LOVE the name discussion going on down there, so please, keep it up. I also love that no one stuck their foot in their mouth and was all, “What kind of douchebag names their kid MASON?” and then a flame war breaks out, because Mason is about more than just jars, you know. Mason is PEOPLE, kind of like Soylent Green, but not, you know, edible.

(For the record, I love the name Mason, and just pulled it out of my ass for the sake of illustration up there.)

So! Because I have TIME and because oh my God THREE WHOLE POSTS IN ONE WEEK, STOP THE PRESSES, I’m going to list some, uh, random facts/issues that have been swirling around here lately. Some I’ve said elsewhere, some I haven’t.

1) I don’t think Michael Jackson was in any way, shape, or form a child molester. I think he was a fucked up, seriously lonely guy who was basically unable to relate to anyone in the world. Yes, he had some very serious issues and made some highly questionable decisions, but I honestly believe they were undertaken innocently. I mean, dude had NO CHILDHOOD, so yeah, I think he liked to be around kids,and maybe not in the most appropriate way, but … I don’t know, the words “arrested development” come to mind whenever I think of him.

Also, last time I checked, he was acquitted, and it bothers me that some of the same people who praise our justice system were the same people who continue to scream that he’s a dirty, dirty molester. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t planning to send Sam on an overnight trip to Neverland or anything, but … oh I don’t know. I just thought some of the comments were super mean-spirited, and I don’t know why I even care. I know, I said I had no real feelings on the topic, but seeing people react to the whole thing made me angry. Like mental illness is okay in some contexts, but not others and MY MY, we can be vicious about it.

2) I had a very unfortunate Stroller Incident today involving an overly weighted stroller, a door, and a lot of orange soda. Also, some screaming, “OH GOD, OH GOD” as I watched my kid pitch headfirst toward the floor, caught in the nick of time by the clerk at the five and dime. Worst moment of my life so far. And maybe the reason I’m afraid to go back to that store, ever, which is hard to do in a small town.

I mean, she would have obviously survived and been FINE, as the fall was all of like, uh, two feet and not even at that point, but you know, she was all DANGLING THERE and I was POURING ORANGE SODA ALL OVER HER in a desperate attempt to wrangle the whole mess and I forgot to throw the bottle down first, and the whole thing up and … oh God. She was ORANGE. I have never felt like such a bad parent, and I’ve cried about it approximately 9,786 times today. Because really, almost dumping her on the floor is bad enough, but basting her in a nice coating of Diet Sunkist is another, and what kind of idiot doesn’t put the BOTTLE DOWN before tending to her CHILD?

(I don’t even have an answer for this, except that I was apparently flustered and stupid. Not, you know, worried more about my Sunkist than my kid.)

And of course, she has a huge gash on her cheek from her own FINGERNAILS and the lady asked me about it, probably because she had one finger on the phone to call child protective services. (Though really, she was very nice.) Sam’s fine, and yes, I know, there are worse things, but GAH GAH GAH. Clearly, I am not fine, and am stuck having the only beer we had in the house which is … Bud Light. Because we’re classy.

3) We ordered Showtime for Big Brother After Dark. Well, and Dexter, but wouldn’t you believe it’s not starting until SEPTEMBER? Anyway, this is embarrassing on every level possible, not the least of which is that we WATCH Big Brother, but let me say that I don’t know where either one of us thinks we’re going to find the TIME to watch such pathetic shenanigans, but that one of us will have a bit more time than the other, ahem.

4) Once, when Sam was a newborn, I stuck the thermometer in my daughter’s girl parts instead of her hind parts. It was the first time I ever thought that maybe I wouldn’t be a natural parent, because for crying out loud, I couldn’t even put a THERMOMETER in the right place. Oh, and in case you were wondering, it was a degree higher. Vaginas are warmer than butts? We may never know for sure.

5) I think horror movie previews should be regulated, because honest to freakin’ God, if I see the preview for Orphan one more time, I am going to pee myself from bald terror. Just call me Tipper.

I could go on about things like Mrs. Meyer’s products (Love! But why so SCENTED? And I LIKE scent!), artisanal butter (BUTTTTTTEEEER), Top Chef Masters (Kelly Choi YOU SUCK, and I am done with you), but alas, there is no room for additional mundanity. (Look at me! Makin’ up words and shit!)

Happy weekend!

*Paul Simon. Am obviously on Graceland kick and it’s The New Girl’s fault.

43 comments July 9th, 2009