Normally, I try to bar shut my bedroom door in the evenings when I get home from work and I am changing. Nothing like seeing stretch marks and wiggling naked white flesh to have my kids earn their future therapy sessions right? Well EmoKid is fiiiine with the whole “not barging in on mom while she undresses and cries in front of the mirror” routine. He would prefer it if I was never naked, semi naked or in a bathing suit in public ever again. I am fine with that.
But Ferdinand will bust in on me when I am peeing , just to ask me to make him a sandwich(sure…let me whip out some bread right here and make one for ya Son!) or Stinkerbell will come in and provide me with a meltdown made just for me because Ferdinand breathed in her time zone. They don’t , however, bother Suburban Cowboy when he is “thinking” on the commode.
The other day I was changing and weeping, when Princess Bacon strolled in.
“Mom…whats a baka missa?” she asked. I stopped and looked at her and then wiggled into my jean shorts.
“Huh?”
“A baka missa, you know when a girl becomes a teenager?” she replied. I held back a laugh. EmoKid is walking in at this point too, he must have sensed I was clothed.
“Princess Bacon, you mean a bat mitzvah..its when a Jewish girl turns thirteen,” I responded.
“You know, Jewish people don’t talk to other people,” replied EmoKid. Really? I stood there and rapidly tried to figure out if I had huffed Resolve Carpet cleaner when I was pregnant with him or if he had suffered brain damage when I squeezed him out.
“Yes they do EmoKid, don’t be ignorant. Who told you that. And being Jewish is a religion . Like us, we are catholic, that’s a religion,” I replied, with a tid bit of exasperation. Next thing he will tell me is Justin Bieber is male and Paris Hilton is worthwhile to humanity.
“Ohhhhh, I get it. Kinda like us being Amish,” says Princess Bacon with all the insight of the aforementioned Paris Hilton.
“What?!” I reply.
“Yeah dad is Greek and you are Amish,” she responds. One. Hundred. Percent.serious.
“Princess Bacon. I am not AMISH. I am Irish. That’s a whole different thing honey,” I reply, chuckling a bit.
“Yeah cuz if we were Amish, we’d be like the Jewish people and not talk to other people either,” replied EmoKid as he walked downstairs.
Wow. I mean wow. How do you even respond to that? Seriously!
Maybe I will move to Lancaster(its only an hour and a half away) and become Amish, by myself, and not talk to anyone who is not at least five foot tall. Because, you know, Amish people don’t talk to ANYONE, and that’s coming from EmoKid, and he’s an Expert!
I sooo have to get a lock for my bedroom door.
**Over and out**
This reminds me of a story about a friend's son. He got his first job at 15 working as a dishwasher in a steakhouse. One day, a local celebrity came into the restaurant and he called his mother, very excited. He was concerned, though, that this person came into the restaurant because he knew they were Presbyterian. Confused, his mother asked him to repeat himself. "You know, Mom, he's Presbyterian. He doesn't eat meat."
ReplyDeleteMy friend tried to stifle a giggle. "Son, you mean vegetarian?"
"Ooooh, yes!" he said.
That happened 25 years ago and he still gets teased about Presbyterians not eating meat. :-)