six year old's have no business knowing about wee

So you know, I'm a lover of all kinds of music.  I honestly don't believe in censoring music for the benefit of the kids - I've always kind of considered it a form of art.  Like, almost the same thing if my kid saw a nude painting or you know, that famous statue of the naked guy with the small penis.  What is it, Michelangelo or something?  I can't remember.  ANYWAY I've always been very anti-censoring.  Music, art, books, whatever.  I pretty much feel like if it is relevant, or it isn't like blatantly obnoxious, I am fine with it.  And if there is something that I do find offensive, I just don't put it out there to my kids. I'll just change the channel, turn the station on the radio, fast forward the tune.  We parents have plenty of control over that crap.

On a similar note, I do not swear in front of my kids at all.  We all know how much I love swearing, but I know my audience. And my audience is a very small one without children in it.  Unless if you include the internet, because sometimes I forget about that audience. 

Obviously, rap and hip hop always have a ton of swear words in their songs.  I enjoy a some music from that genre, however I don't usually play it in the car with the kids because it really is very glaringly inappropriate.  Every other word is a bad word, and you can't like, sing along at all without singing some version of Effing effity eff car, g.d. effing gun, em effing drugs, you get the point.  Pretty much every other word is the F word.  And I don't mean "fart."  

Well, so even though I don't believe in censoring, I think I am pretty careful about avoiding the inappropriate tunes.  I'm trying to keep my kids from sounding like a bunch of scuzzy dirtbags for as long as I can.  It's usually about middle school around here before the kids try test out the swearing thing.  

So anyway, I was driving Brooke to school today and it reminded me of a funny thing that happened a few years ago when Brooke and I were driving to elementary school.  A song by Drake and Nicki Minaj came on - Moment 4 Life.  It's pretty inappropriate, for sure.  Normally I would have switched it, but I wasn't paying much attention because Brooke and I were talking about the field trip she was going on that day - she was so excited, she didn't shut her yapper the entire ride.  The song seriously went right over my head, just kind of like light music was playing in the background.

So all of a sudden, Brooke stops mid-sentence and says "There are bad words in this song Mom."  And I was like, "You know, there are some bad words in this song Brooke."  And she goes, "Want me to tell you one of the bad words Mom?  Fuckin'."  And I cringed.  And I was like, shit, how does she know the real F word is a bad word at 6 years old??  Thank you very much Nicki Minaj.  So I don't act all shocked or freaked out because I kind of feel like if you make too much of a big deal about the bad words, those words suddenly become really attractive to a kid, just because they aren't supposed to say them.  So I said, "Yeah, that's a really bad word - you're not allowed to say that."  And she goes, "Yeah, like I couldn't just go into school and say, 'I'm going on a fuckin' field trip today' to my teacher, right Mom?"

And inwardly I was like, omg.  Also, I felt a snitch proud that she completely used the eff word in context.  High five!  No, just kidding.  Kinda.  So I said, "No, no you can't say that word at school, or anywhere.  You'll get in big trouble if you do because it's really inappropriate."  And she goes, "Well what will happen?"  And I said, "Bare hiney spanking."  So she mulls it over for a second and goes, "I know Mom.  I won't say it."  At this point we've reached the crazy stupid drop off line at the elementary school, so I'm just about to kiss her goodbye and she stops and says, "Is 'wee' a bad word?"  And I was like "Wee?"  And she goes, "Yeah, like in the song it says 'smoke some wee.'"  As in weed.  As in pot.  As in currently illegal drug.  

Ugh.  I definitely went straight home and switched around the playlists on my iPod.  Hearing a sweet little innocent voice saying fuck and KIND OF saying weed, and grasping that they are bad things to say made me rethink the censoring of the music in front of little ears thing.  

Because six year old kids have no business knowing about wee.

What do you think about censoring? I sometimes wish I could go back to that time. With one kid in college, one in high school and one in middle school, it seems like they all know about wee, AND all of the bad words.

11 types of people you find waiting on line

So I went to the movies with a bunch of people the other night, and it was one of those kind of nights where it seemed like everyone in the tri-state area had the same idea.  There was like, zero parking and a line winding all the way outside of the theater.  Alex had to drop us at the door so we could get on line for tickets.  He's a good guy like that. Anyway, I'm an observer, I tend to watch people and check things out a lot.  Standing there in line I noticed a few different types of people that you always seem to find while waiting on line, and I thought I would share those observations with you.  Because I am so generous like that.

I think it was Larry David that defined the "chat and cut" style in line waiting.  You know, the kind of person who slyly walks up to someone towards the front of the line and starts a random conversation, moving when the person moves so they can continue the random conversation. Of course they are still chatting when they reach the ticket booth and since they are already there, they might as well get a ticket themselves!  Lady, you're not fooling anyone with that move.  

The "post pay fumble."  The person who just can get their shit back in their purse or wallet in a timely manner. What's so tough about shoving your change or credit card in your pocket and rearranging it later? Seriously.  There's a line! Wrap it up!

The traditional cutter.  The person that boldly steps in front of you with no apologies, daring you to stand up for yourself.  You know, the type of person that was a bully in high school. Clearly they target the meek. Heads up:  I'm not meek in those situations.  Wait your damn turn.

The "I wasn't paying attention so now there's a huge space between us" person.  This person is rather oblivious and gets caught up in something, whether it be playing candy crush on their phone, or yapping with their date about that night they fell off the bar stool at that one bar and hahaha, remember?  Suddenly there's a huge space and you're like, just gooo man, close the gap! Close the gap!

The "up my ass/stop touching me" person.  This person knows no physical boundaries.  They could be distracted and keep bumping you, or they could just be a close stander by nature.  So that's going to merit several passive aggressive glares. 

The "panic at the disco."  That person who finally reaches the ticket booth and suddenly panics and blanks on what they are supposed to do.  Suddenly they don't know what movie to go see, what size popcorn to order, how many tickets they need, etc  Dude, be prepared.

The boss lady.  The person that is also known as the keeper of lines, you know the one that monitors the movement of the line, periodically piping up with "it's your turn!" and, "go!"  Just to be sure everything goes smoothly and moves along in a timely manner. Because they're all bossy like that.

The friend maker.  The super friendly person that you suddenly feel like you've known forever.  You end up Snapchatting and Facebook friending each other before you even make it to your designated seat at the theater.  Where have they been all of your life and why aren't they sitting with you anyway?

The "what's your opinion? guy."  This is the guy who gets to the front of the line but needs to know what movie the ticket taker would see if they were going to the movies or what the concession stand person thinks the best flavor is to put on popcorn, or how the cashier likes their burger cooked.  Typically, this guy never takes the advice anyway, so why bother asking?

The walking germ.  Ugh.  My second worst kind of person in a line.  This is the guy that stands behind you hacking up a lung, sneezing more than seven times in a row and blowing their nose all over the damn place. Phlegm and spit and germs. Gross.  Please oh please, just do us all a favor and get a movie on Netflix!

The small talker. The person who cannot handle a little silence and feels the need to fill that silence by chatting you up.  Small talk sucks for introverts like myself.  Dude, do you not know the universal signal of please don't talk to me?  I have earphones on!

Can you think of any that I have missed?

Way to go, me.

Don't you think it is HARD to make friends as an adult?  Definitely way harder than when you were a little kid and you just ran outside and started riding big wheels with anyone in the near vicinity that seemed like they were about your general height. (run on sentence much?)

I mean, lets be real, it just doesn't work like that anymore.  Because nobody that seems to be around 5'7 wants to ride big wheels.  Right?  I mean, I'd find it hard to believe that I would just go out and find someone my height playing. It most definitely would be physically impossible to fit my ass into a big wheel.  Unless it was a big wheel for giants! 

But really, when you were younger, it seemed like everyone initially eyed a new kid suspiciously and then they just got over it as long as you weren't overly obnoxious, and as long as you didn't smell like pee.  Because really, you were all pretty much on the same playing field, all pretty much equally dorky and/or oblivious.  And then eventually, you know, as you were hanging upside down next to someone on the monkey bars, all of a sudden you were just friends.  And there was nothing more to it than that. 

But like now?  As a grown up?  How does one actually go about making new friends?  Now that monkey bars and big wheels are out of the equation.  Not that I am looking, of course.  I know I have mentioned several times before that I am an introvert and panic at the thought of adding anyone to my tiny little circle.  But for curiosity's sake. 

I tend to be on the quiet side, so I think for someone like me, it would be painfully difficult to make a new friend that is an actual real live person.  The sad truth is, it probably would be very unlikely that it would ever happen.

I'm just not good at striking up a conversation that doesn't sound forced.  That is because I am a chronic overthinker.  While I might be saying out loud, to your face, (real live recent scenario at a PTO fundraiser thing, unfortunately) "Oh hi!  Your kid is in Kindergarten, right?  Who is her teacher?"  On the inside I'm definitely saying, "Wait, what?  Did she just look at my overly white tooth?  Did I say kid but maybe the better more fancy thing to say should have been child?  Wait!  Does she have a boy and not a girl???!  Oh my Cod I think I have too much cleavage in this shirt.  No, she has too much cleavage and I'm just projecting!  Oh fuck it.  Whatever."  And then it's all over.  Because at that point my face is probably red and I might actually have sweat on my brow and then I am going to certainly pretend I just have to run to grab a drink of water real quick because I'm parched! and then I just never come back.

Because that's how cool I am guys.  Cool as a cucumber.  Way to go, me.

I guess it's sort of good that I'm alright with the friends that I have, huh?

And then that repairman tried to force me to let him sue me

I recognize that the title is a litle tricky.  It'll make sense though.  Eventually.  So just go with it guys.

Remember a while back, this post where I pondered the possibility of swearing out loud more often?  In that post, I mentioned among other things, a certain dishwasher repairman that was highly irritating.


Well guess what guys?  He was back.  And it was worse than the first time even.  I am not kidding either.


Ugh.

So my dryer has been being annoying.  Like not fully drying clothes, which means I have to dry each load almost two times to get it fully dry.  With a family of six, I do a lot of laundry.  I can't deal with a shitty dryer that doesn't heat up.  So Alex eugoogle-ized our brand of dryer, tried to fix it and wasn't too successful.  He is rather resourceful and can pretty much fix most things, but his being able to fix the dryer just wasn't happening. 

So since the dryer was still sucking at doing its job, we called the place where we got it so we could get a repairman to come out.  Coincidentally, it was the same place that we got the dishwasher that just recently needed to be repaired. 

On a side note, is it me or are does it almost seem like things are made crappier these days?  We bought all new appliances when we built this house like seven years ago.  We didn't go high end, but we didn't get the cheapest stuff out there, everything was middle of the line from a good reputable brand.  So anyway, that's it?  We get 7 years of life out of major appliances now?  I am pretty sure my grandmother had the same avocado green refrigerator for my entire childhood.  Why can't we get fridges like that anymore?  

Anyway, I was sitting near the window when the repairman arrived.  And I noticed it was the same guy immediately as he got out of his truck.  Originally, I felt sort of bad for being aggravated at him.  And I was telling myself maybe he wasn't really that annoying.  But as soon as he began walking up the steps to my front door, I could just feel it.

He just looked like he was miserable and hated his job.  Admittedly it was warm out, but he was dripping sweat before he even got to the porch. My washer and dryer are upstairs, and you would have thought I told him he'd need to go outside and wade through a bog with his toolbox on his head to reach them the way he moaned and groaned.  Seriously not kidding.  With every single stair, he groaned.

I had to go up behind him because hello, free pinches, but he was honestly slower than a five year old on crutches.  So an hour later once we got to the laundry room, I sort of said -- here it is, do your thing, and you know, I pretty much was ready to get back to what I was doing.  Because I was pretty sure it wasn't necessary for me to stand there and watch him fix the dryer.

But then he tried to talk to me about it.  For a long time even.  And honestly guys, I tried to seem interested.  But is anyone really interested in discussing dryer repair?  I think not.

Besides he was sniffling again, and wiping his nose with the back of his hand, again.  And I can only stand there for so long witnessing that kind of thing.  A grown man who doesn't seem to know how to use a tissue.  Touching my things.  My germophobe wheels were spinning madly.

I wasn't the least bit rude, snippy or condescending, I swear.  But I pretty much told him in a very nice way that I didn't really care what was wrong with it as long as he fixed it or told me I needed to get a new one.  I don't need to know why.  So somehow I got out of there and went downstairs and continued doing what I was doing before he got there, and he calls me up about ten minutes later.

Which is right about when he asked me to hold on to him as he climbed out my small bathroom window to stand on my extremely steep and angled roof so he could try to reach a vent that was clearly impossibly out of his reach.

So I was like, really repairman?  You want to climb out on top of my toilet and try to wedge yourself out through my little window?  He would have absolutely fallen off of the roof. Which at that point honestly wasn't looking like the worst thing ever.  Besides the fact that I was pretty damn 100% sure that he wasn't going to be physically able to wedge his not very small body out of the window anyway, I wasn't about to let him get on my roof so he could fall off and sue me. 

I mean, I may have my own personal lawyer, but I'm not stupid.

He acted rather indignant when I said absolutely no on the climbing out the window thing.  Then basically went on to say that if I didn't let him on the roof, then it was my own fault he couldn't diagnose the problem.

So to make a very windy story short, I paid the sniffly, groany, wacky repairman from hell $120 to tell me that my dryer didn't work.

Which I pretty much already knew.  Obviously.

Do you think it's hard to play the air guitar?

Don't you think it's funny when people use air quotes?

Maybe they feel it gets their point across better?




I could get this for Abby!

My niece Abby used to use air quotes inappropriately, like when they really made no sense.  She was still trying to grasp the concept I guess.  She'd say something like, "Can you believe that for (insert air quotes now) Christmas, Julian wants an air guitar?!" (True story.  An air guitar was on my nephew's list one year.)

Like she was air quoting "Christmas."

It always makes me chuckle to myself when people do that.  Air quote I mean.

Speaking of air guitar, Alex actually pulled out an air harmonica the other day on the thruway.  We were rocking out to something cool, and he started air harmonica-ing.

He's very cool like that.

Speaking of air guitaring one final time, my sister used to go out with this guy, I can't name his name, because, what if Cod forbid he ever stumbled across this blog and thought I was making fun of him.  I mean, I am.  Making fun of him.  But I don't exactly want to make fun of him to his face.  Because that would be mean.  And it's not nice to be mean.  But anyway, she used to go out with this guy who air guitared all of the time and it was so embarrassing.  He was a Zeppelin fan, and he would play it incessantly on his car stereo.  He would get so into it.  Like, why.  Why must you do such a thing?

Incidentally, I see him around town every so often, and I have this insane desire to just turn up the volume on a random LZ tune, and see if he still does it.  I wonder if he taught his kids.

So do you think it's hard to play the air guitar?