Location: Back of the minivan. Zach in his carseat and the rest of the seats are taken up by the divas and friends.
Scene: Mik is explaining how she didn't go to preschool but had "Grandma" school, one-on-one with my mom.
Mik: So it was just me and grandma. It was like a colonial tutor.
Zach: Tutor! [laughing hysterically] Tooter...that's funny.
If you don't get that, you don't have a little boy.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Confessions -- Part I
I have a Webkinz -- a black lab named "Lulu." I also have over 11,000 kinzcash; therefore, I clearly play on my Webkinz account. Whew, that feels liberating.
It all started earlier in the year when my daughter received two said animals for birthday gifts. One of the moms said that she played on her kids' accounts to earn them "kinzcash" (Webkinz money) so that when her kids returned home from school, they would be excited to be able to buy virtual stuff and she would, in turn, be the mother of the year. First, she so lied. Second, I am already mother of the year and have the macaroni necklace and orange shirt to prove it. But I digress.
Here is the lie: She plays on Webkinz because she can't help herself. It isn't about the kinzcash and it isn't about bringing joy and fulfillment to her children or, by extension, to the virtual frogs and persian cats frolicking in their virtual homes. She plays on Webkinz because it's just plain fun. So when the kids want to use the computer and she's on her 20th round of triple-stack solitaire ostensibly to earn them beaucoup d'argent virtuale, she's just trying to beat her high score.
The fringe benefit to this arrangement is that I am the coolest aunt on the planet. I can use my kinzcash to send cool virtual gifts to my kids, nieces and nephews. OK, so sometimes I send them virtual broccoli, but it's all in good fun.
Some of you out there are also closet Webkinz fans. What's yours -- a white poodle named "Fluffy?" A basset hound named "Buster?" How about an elephant named "Gipper?" OK, so my kids didn't go for that one, but a Reaganite can dream...
See you on Webkinz.
It all started earlier in the year when my daughter received two said animals for birthday gifts. One of the moms said that she played on her kids' accounts to earn them "kinzcash" (Webkinz money) so that when her kids returned home from school, they would be excited to be able to buy virtual stuff and she would, in turn, be the mother of the year. First, she so lied. Second, I am already mother of the year and have the macaroni necklace and orange shirt to prove it. But I digress.
Here is the lie: She plays on Webkinz because she can't help herself. It isn't about the kinzcash and it isn't about bringing joy and fulfillment to her children or, by extension, to the virtual frogs and persian cats frolicking in their virtual homes. She plays on Webkinz because it's just plain fun. So when the kids want to use the computer and she's on her 20th round of triple-stack solitaire ostensibly to earn them beaucoup d'argent virtuale, she's just trying to beat her high score.
The fringe benefit to this arrangement is that I am the coolest aunt on the planet. I can use my kinzcash to send cool virtual gifts to my kids, nieces and nephews. OK, so sometimes I send them virtual broccoli, but it's all in good fun.
Some of you out there are also closet Webkinz fans. What's yours -- a white poodle named "Fluffy?" A basset hound named "Buster?" How about an elephant named "Gipper?" OK, so my kids didn't go for that one, but a Reaganite can dream...
See you on Webkinz.
Bring on the wrinkles
In honor of my birthday, with apologies to those who already know this story.
Summer, 2006.
Location: Seagull Book, Provo, Utah.
Setting: Cash Register.
Cashier, male: "So what are you doing in town?"
Me: I'm here for a family reunion.
Cashier: Oh, I thought you were dropping off a kid at BYU.
Me: Do I look old enough to have a kid at BYU?
Cashier: We've been getting a lot of people in here dropping off kids at school.
Me: But do I LOOK like I could have a kid at BYU?
Later, telling my husband this story:
G: Well, if you do the math, we could have a child at BYU.
S: But do I LOOK like I could have a kid at BYU?
Summer, 2006.
Location: Seagull Book, Provo, Utah.
Setting: Cash Register.
Cashier, male: "So what are you doing in town?"
Me: I'm here for a family reunion.
Cashier: Oh, I thought you were dropping off a kid at BYU.
Me: Do I look old enough to have a kid at BYU?
Cashier: We've been getting a lot of people in here dropping off kids at school.
Me: But do I LOOK like I could have a kid at BYU?
Later, telling my husband this story:
G: Well, if you do the math, we could have a child at BYU.
S: But do I LOOK like I could have a kid at BYU?
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