1. Jack was manhandling the pumpkin I bought for him to paint if we get to feelin' crafty. I responded with the usual comment.
Jack: (from the kitchen) "Why do you always say 'Look with your eyes, not with your hands.'?"
Me: (from the living room and for The Gummer's entertainment): "It'll help you when you go to gentleman's clubs."
2. The Gummer informed me that a family friend died yesterday. Oddly, this family friend dated my father at some point during his bachelorium.
Me: "Oh no! Mom, she's up there with DAD!"
The Gummer: (after a slight, but perceptible pause) "Her husband is there, too."
Me: "Oh, COME ON! Dad is WAY better looking than that guy!."
Me: (after a slight, but perceptible pause during which I consider the Free-Range Brain error I made the day before) "I'm sure it's fine."
3. The Gummer is actually going to have the garage sale she has been putting off for at least 15 years. I was trying to put a positive spin on things, but I had skipped my second dose of Adderall. I didn't quite hit the target:
"Well, this might be your last garage sale."
(The Gummer's facial expression is clearly an error message. Aw...)
I try backpedaling with this whole "Well, you know, it's BEEN 15 years and you're in your seventies and..."
Aw...
Crap. Must take Adderall.
4. Jack informed me that he got in trouble for yelling on the bus, and the principal might be calling our house tonight. I have been teaching at the alternative school all day, and the last damn thing I want to do is discuss anyone's behavior with an administrator. (That's not the last thing. I feel like I should clarify that so I don't leave the door open to something horrible.) Though it hurts me WAY more than it hurts him, I declare a rest-of-the-day moratorium on television and video games. When this exacerbates Jack's turkey factor, I resort to CIA-caliber threats:
"If you don't act right, I'm going to make you cut Gummer's toenails."
Jack's quick response: "I don't know how to use hedge clippers."
5. Though the child support situation has gotten better, Jack's D-A-D invariably doesn't pony up the sperm cabbage when we actually need it... or, like, when it's Christmas or Jack's birthday. It's almost like he is not only evil but also perceptive.
In light of this, I have personally revised our child support policy:
If Jack's D-A-D doesn't pay on Friday, then on Monday, a Hispanic girl in a 1st Communion dress and soccer shoes comes running out of the alley next to the bar du jour and shouts "Buenos dias, pendejo! Me llamo 'Escuela'" Then, she kicks him in the balls while chanting "Chinga tu madre" until nickels fall out.
It's Tuesday now, so Escuela needs to head down to the GA Bar where he keeps his balls, and get to kickin'.
If my dad had answered my "Do we have any relatives in the mafia?" question with 'yes'... well, that's not AT ALL where he'd be keeping his balls.
(Psst... Nickel, nickel, purple pickle.)
Please click "Like" if you like it, and send the link to someone new . It's like Gummer Appleseed.
Jack: (from the kitchen) "Why do you always say 'Look with your eyes, not with your hands.'?"
Me: (from the living room and for The Gummer's entertainment): "It'll help you when you go to gentleman's clubs."
2. The Gummer informed me that a family friend died yesterday. Oddly, this family friend dated my father at some point during his bachelorium.
Me: "Oh no! Mom, she's up there with DAD!"
The Gummer: (after a slight, but perceptible pause) "Her husband is there, too."
Me: "Oh, COME ON! Dad is WAY better looking than that guy!."
Me: (after a slight, but perceptible pause during which I consider the Free-Range Brain error I made the day before) "I'm sure it's fine."
3. The Gummer is actually going to have the garage sale she has been putting off for at least 15 years. I was trying to put a positive spin on things, but I had skipped my second dose of Adderall. I didn't quite hit the target:
"Well, this might be your last garage sale."
(The Gummer's facial expression is clearly an error message. Aw...)
I try backpedaling with this whole "Well, you know, it's BEEN 15 years and you're in your seventies and..."
Aw...
Crap. Must take Adderall.
4. Jack informed me that he got in trouble for yelling on the bus, and the principal might be calling our house tonight. I have been teaching at the alternative school all day, and the last damn thing I want to do is discuss anyone's behavior with an administrator. (That's not the last thing. I feel like I should clarify that so I don't leave the door open to something horrible.) Though it hurts me WAY more than it hurts him, I declare a rest-of-the-day moratorium on television and video games. When this exacerbates Jack's turkey factor, I resort to CIA-caliber threats:
"If you don't act right, I'm going to make you cut Gummer's toenails."
Jack's quick response: "I don't know how to use hedge clippers."
5. Though the child support situation has gotten better, Jack's D-A-D invariably doesn't pony up the sperm cabbage when we actually need it... or, like, when it's Christmas or Jack's birthday. It's almost like he is not only evil but also perceptive.
In light of this, I have personally revised our child support policy:
If Jack's D-A-D doesn't pay on Friday, then on Monday, a Hispanic girl in a 1st Communion dress and soccer shoes comes running out of the alley next to the bar du jour and shouts "Buenos dias, pendejo! Me llamo 'Escuela'" Then, she kicks him in the balls while chanting "Chinga tu madre" until nickels fall out.
It's Tuesday now, so Escuela needs to head down to the GA Bar where he keeps his balls, and get to kickin'.
If my dad had answered my "Do we have any relatives in the mafia?" question with 'yes'... well, that's not AT ALL where he'd be keeping his balls.
(Psst... Nickel, nickel, purple pickle.)
Please click "Like" if you like it, and send the link to someone new . It's like Gummer Appleseed.
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