Evelyn: You know what would be scary Daddy? Vampire Cockroaches.
Me: OH MY GOD.
Now, this is going to sound unbelievably racist but I really don't like maple syrup. And yes I realize that isn't actually racist. But when you write these sorts of things you apparently need to be contentious and controversial to get a good flow of traffic. You know - that fervent mix of people who flock to slurp up every rancid, piss-weak, clearly-contrived, offensive-by-numbers wank that people like Ann Coulter spew out for no apparent good reason. And who are also inexplicably followed around by an equally brain dead, zombie-horde of people who solely vacuum up everything she says - purely to get energy from how much that loathe her.
Anyway - my son insists often that I fetch him a slice of toast drizzled with either honey or maple syrup. And when I say fetch I do mean that when he feels the sorrow-filled star he gives me to indicate that he's hungry (because it's been almost 7 minutes since he last ate) he'll quickly alternate to beckoning me and recommending I fetch him sustenance. I'll be clear - 99% of the time he's the sweetest little bugger. But when he's taking a vacation from his usual self into that 1% he has the tendency to be a Grade A, full-bore, obnoxious twat. He's got the whole, "you there - boy - bring me your finest Chardonnay...." condescendingly smug demeanor down completely. In the very least it's good to learn that his mother is actually teaching him something. Thankfully it's an incredibly brief dalliance with arsehollery that he usually snaps out of sharpish when I give him my best, "Oh fuck no...." stare.
Moving on - I've told him that honey is essentially stuff that leaks from a bees arse. But he won't listen. Quite why he wants it on toast is anyone's guess. Mind you I think the same thing about jam or marmalade. It's not really the weird sweetness of those things (although I do think they taste too much). It's more the textural mix of having something that feels both stodgy and sticky in your mouth whilst eating toast. So I guess honey fits that same criteria of wanting something that makes it seem like a perfectly good piece of toast has been cum on. But maple syrup - that's just rank. It's up there with root beer (swarfiga) and egg nogg (horse jizz) for weird things to put in your mouth. Granted, a) my kids did use to go to a school that actually had a high school maple syrup class for Future Farmers of America (good old backwoods NY) and b) I have actually tapped a fwe maple syrup trees myself. But that's more out of a rustic, romantic attempt at preserving an old way of life. Remembering the way things used to be done. Clinging on to a history of this continent that deserves to be preserved. But to actually eat that crap? No thanks.
I should point out that my kids are utterly delightful most of the time. And I don't mean, "they don't cause any trouble." I mean that when the mutant, alien-overlords that are hiding in Lake Havasu finally rise up to massacre the human race - but first demand a male and female of our kind to show if we really can demonstrate pure, unfettered altruism - I'd put my kids forward in a heartbeat. Without prompting and most of the time uninterested in seeing it recognized they go out of their way to make each other happy. If there's not enough of something delicious to eat they don't fight over who should have it. They just split it. If they can't remember whose turn it is to go first at something, or to pick something - they actively agree to pick something they both like. It's weird. Absolutely wonderful and weird. Take the other day when I got to school to pick up my son. His teacher offered him a lollipop to take home for cleaning everything away earlier in the day. His first question was if his sister could have one too. And a purple one please - that's her favorite colour after all.
|Police say the alein overlords look just like regular, little boys.|
Then there's this lovely arse-shaking thing.
The problem is that last song she somehow has become hooked on is quite clearly inappropriate for a nearly-eight year old. It's this. Firstly - I don't do Hip Hop. Not on principle - I just don't really like much of it. But this somehow has burrowed into my brain. And a few cheeky listens here and there meant when it came on in the car this morning my daughter protested when I hit Skip. At which point I was immediately filled with pride that my little girl likes good music. And horrified that she could have her ears violated by this much swearing.
Obviously when she protested I quickly jammed in something far more appropriate. Not really - it ended up being The Doors. Weird that I can react to potentially age-inappropriate music and slip in Jim Morrison. And I really can't talk about appropriate things for kids. The night before last I got this out of the library for them.
Ugh. Screw zombie roaches or The Walking Dead. That right there is absolutely terrifying.