Try, Try Again

I would like to explain why I think that a perfect parent (or one who tries desperately to appear perfect) is not going to produce the best results in offspring.  Quick illustration – Desperate Housewive’s Bree.  She has one son whose emotions are so stifled that he had no remorse after he ran over an old lady.  Although I did enjoy the development of his character last season, I don’ t think that Andrew would agree that he had the best childhood.  And the other child is a selfish slut who got pregnant sleeping with her friend’s boyfriend.  Not exactly stellar characters there. 

 And while I’m on Desperate Housewives, just a quick sidenote, what’s with the demand for an apology for the so-called racist slur by the character of Susan?  C’mon, that’s called characterization.  Did anyone make the people who created the character of Archie Bunker apologize for his remarks?  Didn’t everyone understand that he was just a well-meaning man whose thoughts were a product of the environment in which he was raised, as the character of Susan is a well-meaning woman who is a product of her, well, ditziness.  She does not truly think that the Phillipines have inferior medical professionals, she just could not adequately express what she was trying to say, that the doctor must be wrong to say that she was experiencing menopause.  This is common for the character of Susan and consistent with her character.  So get over it, people!  If she had said, “Let me see if your degree came from Alabama,” I would not have been offended.  Oh, I’m from Alabama, by the way.  When you look at the big picture, the message society is sending with this is, ‘adultery is o.k., hiring a hitman to kill your girlfriend is blackmailing you to stay with her is o.k., but God forbid that you say anything negative about another culture.’ 

On time, but…

If I thought that I would ever run out of faults to talk about on this blog, I don’t think I have to worry.  I DID get Vi to school on time this morning.  With time to spare to stop at the gas station and get her a doughnut as a reward for getting up and getting dressed without me having to holler for an hour straight. 

 

That’s really kind of funny how that happened.  I spent about 15 minutes telling her, “Get up!  Get up!” until she finally did get up and go into the living room where I had turned on the TV and laid out her clothes for the day.  After I got dressed, and I just realized in the restroom that I put my cotton panties on inside out (and I think she’s silly because she puts her panties on backwards!), I came into the living room to holler at encourage her to get dressed, but she was already dressed.  And giggling!  I told her I was so glad that she went ahead and got dressed and now we had time to get her a doughnut if she wanted one.  Of course!  I did tell her, though, that I was disappointed because I did not get to holler, and I do so enjoy hollering, so I spouted a few “yanh-yanh-yanhs” at her, and then we were off. 

 

So, to recap, to school on time, check.  To work without incident, not-so-check. 

Tardy Again

My daughter’s favorite part of the morning is my desperate dash down Main Street in order to get her to school on time.  “How many minutes, now, Mama?” she asks.  “Three minutes.  What do you think?  Will we make it?”  “I don’t think we will,” she answers, matter-of-factly.  Most mornings we make it seconds before the 8am bell rings.  But there have been several mornings that we arrive just seconds after the bell has rung, and then I have to walk inside to sign her in as tardy.  These are shame-filled mornings. 

This morning was one of those mornings.  Today is Columbus Day!  A state holiday and a day off for me.  The principal stands outside the front door as a reminder that she is disappointed in my ability to get my daughter to kindergarten on time.  The secretary gives me a stern look as she writes my daughter’s name on her tardy excuse.  Today she even hands out a slip of paper explaining the importance of punctuality to late-comers.  It’s freaking 8:01!  I give Vi a hug and shuffle out of the school building, head hung in shame.  The principal is still outside waiting to shame the next late-comers with her sweet and sour smile.  Good morning, her smile says, I’m nice and friendly, but you are late, and I am disappointed in you.  Obviously you are not a very good parent, I imagine she is thinking.