Children are animals

“In general, zoos and wildlife parks preclude or severely restrict natural behavior, such as flying, swimming, running, hunting, climbing, scavenging, foraging, digging, exploring, and selecting a partner. The physical and mental frustrations of captivity often lead to abnormal, neurotic, and even self-destructive behavior, such as incessant pacing, swaying, head-bobbing, bar-biting, and self-mutilation.” Source: Peta.org

According to PETA, keeping wild things in captivity is dangerous for their mental and physical health. Looking at my teenage sons, I cannot help but realize- these beasts would rather be feral. They would rather feed on the normal diet of their species, chips, soda and frozen things that mimic food. They would not be tortured with the knowledge of what a ‘lentil’ is or the concept of whole wheat (which they liken the constant use of to be similar to being a militant vegans).

And PETA is right- they ought to be out doing all the things that boys naturally do. Foolish feats that prove their strength and agility like skateboarding for instance. And here I am, forcing them to learn the hallmarks of domesticity, cooking and cleaning. And as a result, they pace about out of frustration demanding to know when their chores are complete enough to go outside. 

They have also been known to engage in self mutilation by way of ‘gauges’ in the ears. 

Perhaps it’s time to release them?

Not a chance!

Things that have happened this week:

Rachel (somewhat to the tune of Row, Row, Row Your Boat): Grill the cat, Grill the cat, Grill the cat, Grill the cat, Grill the cat,

Shocked Winco cashier: I haven’t heard *that one* before…

Me: Honey, by ‘grill’ do you mean interrogate or bbq?

Rachel (laughingly): uh-huh!

Rachel: Mom, when you were my age, did Grandma read your text messages, too?

Me: We didn’t have text messages..

Rachel: What about when you were a teenager?

Me: Our phones didn’t do that..

Rachel: Oh.. did they only play games?

0.o

Some people don’t *get* Facebook. Today my ex let me know that he declined my Facebook invitation to play Candy Crush Saga- and in great detail as to why. As if I had thoughtfully put the request out there. 

$#!* just got real.

What to do if you have a spider in your car:

1. Notice spider hanging down near steering wheel, menacingly.
2. Interpret this to mean that you are in imminent danger.
3. Immediately pull car safely to shoulder of road.
4. Open window and door.
5. Swat at spider with junk mail kept in car for this purpose.
6. Realize passersby and other drivers cannot see spider and think that you have been incited to rage by junk mail.
7. Smash spider with small flyer.
8. Add larger catalogue to flyer and continue pressing.
9. Shut door and resume your original route.
10. Feel unsafe for balance of trip.
11. Refuse to drive car until someone (a boy) has checked vehicle for additional spiders.

*These steps can be used for any type of insect, except stinging ones which require you to exit the vehicle to plan your cautious approach.

My First Trip to Sea-Tac.

 There is a line in Liar Liar that really hits home with me. Jim Carrey's character is trying to tel the judge that he made a bad call and finally blurts out in exasperation, "Well, maybe you can tell that to the kids when they're adopted... by the Manson family!" And while I was neither adopted nor a Manson I did have somewhat unusual experiences growing up.

When I was ten or so my uncle came for a visit. This may or may not have been for my grandma’s funeral. Honestly, I don’t recall. My dad and I drove up to Seattle to get him from the airport at night because he was flying standby from overseas, I believe. My cousins may have been there as well. Again- not the impressive part of this story. 

I remember that SeaTac airport was HUGE. Come to think of it, I’d never seen an airport before so maybe it’s just perspective. Anyway, when my dad was going through the metal detector, it kept going off. Again and again the security person would ask him to check his pockets to see if he had anything metal. Eventually, the jostling of the dozen open matchbooks he had in the pocket of his vest (see vest below) caused them to ignite and flames to shoot out of his pocket. This *probably* wouldn’t have been so alarming for the security staff except that dad looked somewhat like Charles Manson. (see doppelganger below)

*Footnotes:

¹Upon arriving at our home, my uncle told us that he wanted to go to McDonalds for a Big Mac. No one knew where one was. Also, I was too shy to ask him what a Big Mac was. 

²Upon seeing this photo my little brother asked me if I had a second copy. Uh...It’s a POLOROID?