Am I unusual in that things which go through my head might not be fit for stating publicly? I mean a lot of things. While it might be healthy to have a modicum of snark in your life, I find that most of the time I am lucky that my filter is engaged and functioning properly. However, lately, what with teenagers shoving vodka soaked tampons in their nether regions for a high, and Gov. Perry and Herman Cain fighting for the title of biggest moron, I am left with an over abundance of snark in my head. It needs to go somewhere. And, it turns out, that somewhere, as of today, is here. How unlucky that you have stumbled across this place.
But back to Governor P. Seriously, what *is* it with you Texans? Is there a rule there that says that qualified candidates must have an IQ below the national average in order to be elected? I mean I thought I had seen the worst of it with our friend W, but geez. Come on, you're killing me here. Oh and let's not get started on Mr. Cain. Seriously? Did anyone actually know who this guy was until he threw his proverbial hat in the ring? Come on, be honest. And really? Just another politician who treats women poorly (I trust no one needs a list). Someday, maybe, he will look back on his failed bid for the Presidency and say "that was a bad decision." Either that, or we will have a new Master and Chief (shudder).
Speaking of bad decisions, that is a great segue into the dreaded "a little about me" segment. Pay attention now, because I likely won't go over it again. I am a divorced mom of two plus a menagerie of fur kids. I am not known for making the best choices (guffaw). In fact, I am currently recovering from the most recent spate of bad (REALLY bad) decisions, no doubt by making a whole new string of horrible missteps. I tend to be antisocial by nature, shunning the majority humans save for the exceptional ones: My friends, kids and family members. Most days though, I truly prefer the company of my dog, she is definitely more intelligent than the average human which already makes her an easier companion, but her complete and utter adorableness just seals the deal. I have many pet peeves, which I am sure we will explore here, so no need to really list them all. Right?
So, today's topic: Our family has this red plate:
We use it primarily for birthdays, but sometimes for good report cards or important days. I am sure lots of families have this plate. Yes? It isn't that unusual. My problem, and it is becoming a major problem, is that it says "You are Special Today." Ten years ago, maybe even five years ago, no not five, but for sure ten, this would have made me get all warm and fuzzy. Oh look! Someone thinks I did something great. But now. Not so much. Why? Well because, as is the case with many words in our society, the word "special" has changed meanings. And now when I see the plate, I start to wonder if the short bus is going to be pulling up anytime soon to cart me off. Now if I had kept this to myself, I would be fine, but because I tend to let the filter slip among those few humans I am close to, I mentioned it to my daughter (and by default my MUCH younger son). My daughter, of course, found it hilarious and we now make very inappropriate jokes about who gets the red plate TODAY?! But my son, well my son is a sweet little naive thing (for now) and he really didn't understand that some humor is meant to stay confined to, well, duh, the home.
The first day of school rolled around a couple of months ago and I walked my boy to school. Of course, he saw a bus coming and says, (loudly I might add), "Hey Mommy! Look! There's the SHORT BUS!" Now, in my head he screamed this and I immediately started looking around. No one seemed to notice though so it must have just sounded loud to me. Phew. Dodged the bullet. I think. But I am still waiting, three months later, for the letter from his teacher telling me that I need to work on his manners and then have to confess that it was all my fault. Not wanting to throw my son under the proverbial bus (hee hee) or anything. I will do my best to make sure that in the future, I remind him about how *some* things should not be repeated. Chalk that up to one of the missteps in my recovery. Horrible or not.
Disclaimer (and believe me, as we get to know each other, these will become few and far between):
I can already hear some people all up in arms about my "insensitivity" and lack of caring. That isn't it at all. This post has NOTHING to do with any persons or specific afflictions. This post has to do with semantics and my lack of understanding on the reasons we, as a society, have to always find new, better phraseology for things every decade or so. I just don't understand it and am left to wonder when the term "special" will fall out of favor, as many before it have. Someday, someone will say it implies something negative and we can have our word back. Of course, I wonder who decides such things and if can I write an appeal to them to speed things along. The proverbial, all omniscient "them". Does anyone have their email address?
No comments:
Post a Comment