Saturday, September 8, 2007

The Weekly Wonderings #26

Back to School
1. Depending on the event, a black coat and tie would be fine, but a yellow jacket is decidedly not invited.

2. I insulted some people the other day. (Hell, I'm on a roll because I think I managed to insult someone I barely know nearly every day this week.) I was over at someone’s house for a party, and my kids both got out of the pool. I had been sitting poolside watching them, talking with another woman who had been watching her kid. He also exited the pool. So I walked over and said to the other parents – parents whose children were in the pool – that there were kids in the pool and no one was watching them. None of them were near the pool. They were all sitting having food outside the fenced in area of the pool. They got mighty insulted. “As long as the 11-year-old is there, it’s fine.” “I can see them from here.”

3. So I steered clear of them the rest of the party – another hour and a half or so – because I was so pissed at how stupid they are.

4. It doesn’t help matters that one of the women there was someone whom I don’t know at all but whom a very good friend dislikes and has had a run-in with in the past. I can’t even talk to her because I don’t like her based on my friend not liking her. Of course, after the reaction tonight, I don’t like her for my own reason, too.

5. Looking at some Wordless Wednesday posts, I happen upon one with a side banner proclaiming, “I homeschool my children because they’re worth it.” My feeling about folks with bumper stickers on their blogs is akin to my take on folks who have them on their cars.

6. It’s back to school night, and I am waiting to talk to a teacher. A woman is in front of me. She introduces herself, saying, “I’m Boy’s mother.” The teacher replies with, “He’s a very bright boy.” The mother says, “Yes, he is.” The teacher says, “We just need to get him to focus.” And the mother says, “Really?” As if she has no clue what an absolute disruptive wise-ass her kid is.

7. Why is it when there is a car (or two) parked on the street in the area in front of my house, I get a whiff of indignation on my part? “How dare they park there,” I think. That’s just childish.

8. The five-year-old lad says, “I have brain freeze.” One beat. Two beat. Three beat. “What’s brain freeze?”

9. Getting my mammogram done recently – oh the joys of that, eh? – I’m in the waiting room with a man waiting to get some MRIs done for a worker’s compensation injury. He had no problem texting away or moving around until the technician called him for his appointment. Then he’s in agony.

10. And, really, is there anything less necessary or more expensive than
MammoWipes? That’s right, if fake worker’s comp claims aren’t raising your health care costs, the asinine purchasing decisions made, such as buying special wipes to clean your body before (or after) a mammogram, will notch them up even more.


Jeni said...

What the heck are "mammowipes?" Ok, you said they are special wipes for use with a mammogram (before/after, whatever)but what the heck are they that makes them so bloody special for that occasion only anyway? Other than another way to up costs, as you suggested and that sounds like probably the most plausible explanation there. Crazy though isn't it? (P.S. - loved the comment about the teacher and the mother "We need to get him to focus." "Really?!!" Yes, really! Tell that parent to take the freaking blinders off for a minute or two, at least.

Anonymous said...

LOL! The yellow does work if you are the man in the yellow hat....other than that I think I'll have to agree.

The Owners said...

Amen to #5 sister. I so hate those.

#6 is very typical. The woman you wrote about sounds like my sister-in-law. She thinks her son is an angel and freaks out if anyone tells her differently. Seriously, I mean red-in-the-face furious and she tries to turn it all around and lay the blame elsewhere.

I do not defend or make excuses for my daughters' rotten behavior. I'm not blind or stupid.

Bea said...

Bumper stickers on blogs. Hehe.

Your back-to-school night made me think of another "My Job/Not My Job" pairing:

My Job: To be in my child's corner.
Not My Job: To insist that my child can do no wrong.

Iota said...

I send my children to school because they're worth it.


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