Setting:
County Library late afternoon
Characters:
Little boy playing on the computer in the kids' computer section in one corner of the library. Head phones on.
20 something man, presumably the child's father, surfing the internet in the adults' computer section on the opposite corner of the library. Head phones on.
Scene I:
"DAD" shouts the little boy, to hear himself over the headphones, across the library
"PLAY YOUR GAME" shouts the 20 something man, to hear himself over the headphones, across the library
"DAD COME HERE" shouts the little boy
"PLAY YOUR GAME" shouts the 20 something man
"DAD!!!!!" shouts the little boy
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND PLAY YOUR GAME" shouts the 20 something man
"DAD! (pause) i love you" fades out the little boy barely audible to the lady sitting next to him.
Post script:
*sigh*
Monday, August 29, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Mothers are Weird
This past week I have heard quite a few mother's screaming at their kids. I think a couple of times it might have been my own voice I was hearing.
One night, while waiting for my son at football, I overheard a mother making a request of her child. I remember distinctly what the mother said (warning language), "Stop throwing those rocks or I'm gonna kick your little black ass!" The kid didn't stop. Nor did she kick his little 5 year old tushy. I don't think she was actually going to. I don't think the kid thought she was going to, either. Really, I don't think she thought she was going to.
Today I heard another make a request of her son, "HIT THAT KID!" The kid did. And that kid was my son. And her kid was supposed to hit my kid. There were over a hundred people watching her son hit my son. Only I missed it. Because I turned around to see who the heck was yelling at their child to hit another child. I guess I have to get used to watching football again, as a mom.
As the game went on I found myself cheering as my son got in on tackles. And cringing when he got blindsided. One time he popped up off the ground and looked ready to deck the kid who had tackled him and I thought "NO!" And then 30 seconds later I was cheering as he rushed at the next kid he was supposed to knock to the ground.
Most mom's I know (including my own) are amazing women. Totally committed to their children. Do wonderful jobs at it, too. But I am pretty sure they are still weird. At least I hope they are. Cause I know I definitely am.
One night, while waiting for my son at football, I overheard a mother making a request of her child. I remember distinctly what the mother said (warning language), "Stop throwing those rocks or I'm gonna kick your little black ass!" The kid didn't stop. Nor did she kick his little 5 year old tushy. I don't think she was actually going to. I don't think the kid thought she was going to, either. Really, I don't think she thought she was going to.
Today I heard another make a request of her son, "HIT THAT KID!" The kid did. And that kid was my son. And her kid was supposed to hit my kid. There were over a hundred people watching her son hit my son. Only I missed it. Because I turned around to see who the heck was yelling at their child to hit another child. I guess I have to get used to watching football again, as a mom.
As the game went on I found myself cheering as my son got in on tackles. And cringing when he got blindsided. One time he popped up off the ground and looked ready to deck the kid who had tackled him and I thought "NO!" And then 30 seconds later I was cheering as he rushed at the next kid he was supposed to knock to the ground.
Most mom's I know (including my own) are amazing women. Totally committed to their children. Do wonderful jobs at it, too. But I am pretty sure they are still weird. At least I hope they are. Cause I know I definitely am.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Do These Things Ever Happen to Other People?
I switched out my music player holder for my husband's. In my old holder I could leave the cover on my music player and it still fit. On this new one, I have to take my cover off. You'd think that would be simple. I mean I know I have snapped the cover back on millions of times. Which means that I have to have taken it off before. After thinking about it, it turns out the only time I have ever removed my cover is when I have dropped it. It also turns out that I have no idea of how to take it off any other way. I'm thinking about dropping it...
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Life is a Musical, Right?
I sing to myself, a lot. I thought this was normal--my whole life! Until I discovered it might not be. Yes, if I were singing the latest alt rock song no one would blink. But I'm a little different than that. I thought I had broken the habit. Today I caught myself singing about the laundry I was doing. So perhaps I haven't quite lost the tendency. I hate putting away laundry. I don't mind putting away laundry so much if I sing about it as I do it.
Come to think of it, I hate putting away anything. I love putting clothes in the washer and moving them to the dryer, I don't even mind folding clothes and sorting them. I HATE putting them away. Is that strange? It applies to the dishwasher, too. Which makes me think of a little tune about dishes...
Come to think of it, I hate putting away anything. I love putting clothes in the washer and moving them to the dryer, I don't even mind folding clothes and sorting them. I HATE putting them away. Is that strange? It applies to the dishwasher, too. Which makes me think of a little tune about dishes...
Oops I did it again
Have you ever just sat outside your body and watched it say the stupidest things? Such a helpless feeling. Yet amusing, really, if you think about it. To be able to float around and be aware enough to think, "STOP STOP STOP" but not be able to actually prevent the words from spilling out. And then to somehow have to be responsible for the actions you so obviously (well obvious to yourself) couldn't prevent. That part sucks. You'd think there'd be some sort of "Fair Fighting Clause" that allows for this sort of impairment.
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