I’m going to start today off with a rant. If complaining, foul language (implied), and a politically incorrect attitude bother you, move along. This is not the post for you. I’m tired, cranky, and just generally POed after last night. Fair warning. It’s all my fault though. I should have sensed trouble with Erica and spent some time discussing what was bothering her, but I didn’t. I dismissed it, her feelings about what she saw, what she heard, and it all started at dinner…
A Parent’s Challenge
So dinner starts off with a discussion about the assembly the two older girls had at school today. It was a program called Rachel’s Challenge which you can read more about here if you care to. I knew about it from a school thing we had attended last year in which they sang the praises of this program. I have not seen this program myself nor have I looked into this non-profit (501c3) charitable organization’s financials, so I will comment on neither.
[Begin Rant] What I will comment on is the way the school used this program to mind-f*ck my thirteen-year-old daughter, whipping her into an emotional frenzy, and then shoved her back onto the school bus and sent her home for me and her mother to deal with—until about 2AM or so today. What POs me even more is that I paid for this. Yes, I paid for the school to scare the living sh*t out of her with their fear-mongering, teaching what my wife and I damn well teach all our children anyway. WTF? And we do a better job at it, I might add. So, to the school board, or whoever used my tax dollars to pay for this BS, a big middle finger to each and every one of you. My children will be staying home the next time you schedule another one of these events. Here’s a challenge to all of you. Leave the lessons on social morality for us to teach to our children. We don’t all have our hands out asking the Government what they can do for us today [End Rant].
Sh*t! I’ve got a headache now. Where’s the f*cking Tylenol?
“Daddy, how can this be?” asks Linn. “Look, it’s halfway…” She holds up one of those clear, Lucite children’s glasses that has some sort of toxic fluid in-between the inner and outer layers and is populated by colorful plastic fish that are most likely equally toxic. She flips it upside down. “And now… it’s not.” She was referring to the level of liquid in both directions. Right side up it was about an inch below the top. Upside down it was about three inches below the top. Interesting. She continues to flip it back and forth. “Halfway… Top. Halfway… Top.”
“Because,” says Maddie.
“I have no idea.”
I know because why. Because it’s magic.
Meat or Meet?
“Sausage is my favorite meat,” says Erica, taking a big bite. “Actually… no. Pork roast, then sausage.”
“I like pork,” says Linn.
“Chicken is probably my last,” says Erica.
“I like swim meet and track meet,” I say.
Linn looks at me, her lip curled with distaste.