Vintage dixiblog, from 2007: It’s a cold day outside, and I’m enjoying it by having the window open and wearing my friendly sock monkey pjs. Life is good.
I start to turn, and the Stinker pulls my arm to turn me back where I started. Huh?
“I’m looking at the sock monkey on your pajamas,” she explains. “There’s sock monkey on a date.”
“Well that’s good. That’s good to know,” It is, I think. “Even sock monkeys should get lucky sometimes.”
“Mooooommm! I can’t believe you just said that. That is so wrong!”
“What? What’s so wrong about it? Why shouldn’t sock monkeys have their fun? ”
“That’s just WRONG! That’s disturbing.”
“Not to other sock monkeys. I say, Let Sock Monkey get a little action. He deserves it. He’s a versitile guy. He cooks and cleans and everything. Why shouldn’t sock monky have a little noogie? I think he deserves it.”
Somewhere around then, she said I was nuts or something. I dunno. I was kind of in my own vision of sock monkey world, where our hero lives, working and playing and getting his occassional action. Good for him!
Wrote this in 2006, but the advice still holds…hope it helps somebody going through it.
heard through the grapevine somebody i know may be facing some custody issues soon. since this is something i know waaayyyy too much about (unfortunately), i figured i’d share some tips that may help anybody is this position. take it for what it’s worth—we didn’t win. but i know we learned a lot, too. so, you know. maybe our painful history can help someone else.
Told you Mom’s been cleaning out her stuff via my living room. Here’s some of what she brought me. She didn’t know I was going to use the sewing machine for making Tarot bags and the desk for doing readings. Didn’t ask. And that, my friends, is example of a success communication strategy with parents and adult children: don’t ask what you don’t want to know, and they won’t tell you.
I went to visit Dad in the hospital. They expect him to be fine, after they add a couple more stints to his heart. But he’s almost 80. So, you never know. They just moved back into town, it’s a half hour trip. I’m going to see him before he goes to surgery.
My brother was there, with his wife, now adult son, and granddaughter. He looks, walks, and sounds so much like my dad it’s freakish. I haven’t seen him for maybe 15 years; been probably a decade since I’ve heard his voice. They’re all dressed up, fresh from their meeting.
He was nice enough to me, and talked to me a little. But it’s weird as holy Hell, you know? It’s like it’s this person you know but you don’t, and everybody’s acting like it’s not weird that we haven’t talked in 15 years. It’s not even mentioned or acknowledged. Continue reading Family Flashbacks
I get reminded sometimes. Most of the time, I forget. It’s second nature. But once in a while, I get reminded. I live a humble life. I’m not sure if it’s by circumstance or choice. Continue reading Living a Humble Life
When our kids were little, like most kids, they got too much candy for Easter. Hyperactive little munchkins anyway, right? They’d gobble some, and when they slowed down, we’d put the rest away for later. Usually, there was part or most of the chocolate Easter bunny left over. Into the fridge it goes.
Then, a conscientious parent would do their parental duty to save the child from the obesity epidemic (and a potentially annoying sugar buzz): sneak into the kitchen when the kid is busy watching TV, and snap a piece of that Easter Bunny’s ears right off for a quick snack. As long as you avoid easily identifiable parts and don’t suddenly behead a previously intact bunny torso, nobody’s any the wiser.
“I’m afraid I’m writing something controversial again, Honey,” my husband tells me. (It’s been a topic here lately, since sometimes free speech gets ugly. It makes folks uncomfortable, speaking out for principles like free speech as worthy of defense, despite the unworthiness of ideas expressed. The whole issue bypasses reasoning and heads straight for the gut.)
“Oh yeah?” I’m not especially surprised. He’s always been one to say what he thinks; I treasure honesty.