Our Future...Not so "bright"

Every day on my way to drop my kids off at school, I pass by the neighborhood bus stop. There are usually 8 to 10 kids standing around. Some of them are talking to each other, but most of them just stand there with this vacant, "No One's Home" look on their faces. Do they not know what is about to happen? Perhaps... a bus will come and pick them up for SCHOOL?

Why the indifference?

Maybe it is because they have a million other things going on in that little brain of their's. If they aren't staring off into space breathing through their mouths, they are texting or talking on their cellphones. Why does a 13 year old need a cellphone? Why incur the expense of another phone line and texting? I don't get it. ( I reserve the right to harp on these parents now and make the exact same mistake in about 5 years with my own tween. But for now I will judge them mercilessly.)

Others are listening to their I-Pod with a gazillion songs they've no doubt stolen from the artist on-line with lyrics that would make my grandmother spin like a top in her grave.

One couple I have seen on numerous occassions awkwardly swapping spit between their pimply faces. Ah, young love. (Maybe I'm just jealous!)

Then there is the kid with the perfectly coiffed hair and brand new clothes that is so concerned with his outer appearance that he can't keep eye contact with the kid whose pants are barely hanging onto his bean pole body. The pretty boy is too concerned with his 17th pair of new shoes to hold a conversation and the kid whose clothes are barely hanging on doesn't want to talk anyway, because he can't hear over the complex musings of Lil' Wayne blaring through earphones as big as his head. He has one hand on his I-Pod and the other holding his pants up.

All of these things that I observe are just phases or trial periods for each kid. They have no idea who they are and they are taking on different roles and trying them out. I have seen those kids change looks like I change underwear. Nonetheless, they all have one thing in common.

Stupidity.

I'm not being harsh. It is apparently a rule among teenage children. You must be stupid to fit in.

For example, it would be absolutely assanine to wear a coat when it is cold. It may not go with your new tennis shoes or it might hender you from pressing your body inappropriately to your girlfriend in front of your peers or you might not be able to reach your pants to keep them from falling down and Lord knows that you could never wear pants that fit you properly. Are you kidding? That's crazy. Social suicide.

If you got up extra early and wasted time, sanity and product on your hair, what sense would it make to carry an umbrella? Absolutely none. That would be stupid. To remain dry on a rainy day and get to school in the same state that you left the house in would be ridiculous. Why would you want to tie yourself down with an umbrella when you could just shiver and drip-dry for the first two hours of school causing you to smell like a wet dog? Stupid.

Do you understand that this is the future of our nation? The kid with his pants hanging off his ass who is slowly trying to take away God's gift of hearing may have a 4.0 GPA, but if he is not smart enough to stay dry when it rains and warm when it's cold, I've got no faith in him.

They should teach a course on common sense. We could all use it. Stupidity starts at a very early age.

The Ball's In Your Court, Doc

I have a 6 year old son who may very well be one of the funniest people I know. He is constantly surprising me with the things he says. Such a little grown up at times and then very baby-ish at others, but either way hilarious.

So, I took my comedian to his 6-year checkup at the pediatrician's office. He was very nervous in the days leading up to this appointment because he was convinced that they would give him some sort of shot. For days I exhausted myself trying to assure him that I had no knowledge of an upcoming shot, but no amount of coddling satisfied him.

He was a bundle of nerves after sitting in the waiting area for about 10 minutes we were them sent to "solitary" to wait on the doctor.

**SIDE NOTE** The whole doctor's appointment thing just chaps my ass. Why do they even make you tell them when you would like to be seen, because they aren't going to see you until you've done at least 45 minutes in doctor's office hell. Just let me do my time in the general waiting room where there is a tv, albeit forever tuned into CNN Health, ...ZZZzzz..., but a tv nonetheless and other prisoners that I can watch and compare my children to, thus making me feel either superior or inferior to their parents. Don't send me to the closet you call an exam room with one spanish magazine and a worn out copy of a child's bible where I will be trapped with my child for no less than 40 minutes playing "I Spy" on the tiny wallpaper border. Seriously, reform healthcare already. And start with the double scheduling/waiting room/torture chamber situation!!!

Anyway, the doctor comes in to examine my son. My big boy usually does very well for the doctor's and doesn't resist them or give them a hard time, but this time he was nervous, so he was just a little gun-shy and kept asking, "Now what are you going to do to me?" each time the doctor pulled out a different instrument. That question was immediately followed in a sort of staccato pattern with "Am I getting a shot today?"

The doctor was very nice and did his best to answer the questions calmly without letting the cat out of the bag. Yep, time to get that booster shot, buddy.

So, all is well with my boy. The picture of health. Right height, right weight, and based on his verbal exchange with the doctor, appropriately inquisitive. Last step, check the family jewels.

The doctor says to my son, "Alright, we're almost done. We just need to check you down there." He is pointing to the area on my son's body that we like to refer to as his "business". My son says, hesitantly, "Okay, but hurry up." He immediately covers his face as the doctor begins to pants him.

As a mother of only one boy, I don't know how developed he should be at this point, but my guess is that he's right on the money. However, I am not dillusional enough to think that the doctor is going to be able to hold them in the palm of his hand, so I am interested to see how this will work.

Instead of his palm, he used his fingertips to feel for whatever it is he looking for. As he is trying to balance the...parts, his finger slips, and one gets loose causing the doc to say, "Oops".

(Drum roll here)

My son, hands still covering his eyes because he can't bear to look at what is happening to his business, says, "That one gets away from me, too!!!"

Classic comedy from my 6 year old. Look out Seinfeld.

Seriously, people, does it get any better?

ahhh...friends

Well, as you can see by looking at my page I have three "followers". Funny, because I actually know all three of them, Adrien (the one who made me do this), Jessi (Adrien's cousin) and Cathy (Adrien's aunt) and they don't actually "follow" me anywhere. We may meet in the same places or sit together at church or share a meal or play ROCK BAND, but never once have I looked over my shoulder and found any of the three "following" me. I assure you that in 6 months if you look at this blog again, they will still be the only three who find me funny enough to "follow". Love their hearts, they are so easily entertained.

Now the word "followers" sounds kind of cult-like, don't you think? Perhaps blogspot.com should change the word to "fan" or "liker". Facebook just changed the "Become a Fan" button to "Like". Is it wrong to be a fan of something? I say absolutely not.

I am a fan of many things: GLEE (which may be the topic of a soon-to-come posting), the extra crumbs that you get at Long John Silver's, Kathy Griffin-although I am completely not proud of this because she stands for everything that I have been taught all of my life to repent from, however, I find that watching her puts a smile on my face like no other show can, imitation crab meat, Stephenie Meyer, the Script song "Breakeven", 10th Ave North and of course slap bracelets. These are just a few things that have, through the years, earned my fanship.

Perhaps you enjoy some of these things, too. That doesn't mean that you "follow" them, right? How do you follow leftover deep fried fish batter? You don't. It follows you. It hangs right on to your ass and it won't let go for any amount of sit-ups in the world. So in actuality, it is a follower of mine as well.

Anyway, all I am saying is that I only FOLLOW Jesus Christ. I reserve the right to be a "fan" of many things, but follower I am not. ;~)

All of that being said, I am ever so grateful for my "followers". They laugh when I speak, whether out of pity or genuine humor I don't know, but it sure tugs at the old heart strings. God bless you 3 "followers" of mine.

Alright, so... this is it. My first venture into blogging. Feels good. I chose the Dark Dots layout. Not necessarily what I wanted, but it was slim pickins. So, here I am in cyberspace, just wandering aimlessly without a coherent thought to give you. I apologize, but I'm not quite sure what to say just yet. I mean I have plenty to say, I'm just not sure what to say. Do you want to know the latest thing my kids said or the fact that the button on my fave pair of khakis has left a permanent mark on my jelly roll? I could tell you about my campaign for County Clerk and the shenanigans and stress that invade my mind at the most unexpected and inopportune times. Who knows what will come out of these fingers, but I promise to try my best to entertain. So, whatever comes of this blog, I'll just let you know now that my sister-in-law finds me funny. Not many do, but for whatever reason she does, so I am humoring her with this blog. Hopefully, I don't disappoint. Just so you know, I am only here because...Adrien Made Me Do It.