Saturday, July 11, 2015

Yellow Shame

I explained the whole pissing on a jellyfish sting to my kids this week,


The problem with kids is that they learn so much random information that - in order to make sense of the world - at some point they have to stitch it all together. Form some sort of pattern. A mesh of all the things they've learned woven together to hold the universe in. Which is why everyday when I pick my son up he starts ranting uncontrollably about the kid at school who "doesn't know anything." At first I worried this was some sort of massively, arrogant, view of the world in which you can automatically elevate your own intellectual standing by pointing out what other people don't know. We all know someone who attempts to emphasize their strengths by solely underlying other people's perceived weaknesses. Some of us were even married to them. That attitude is maddening. And I was worried my innocent little Oboe had - for want of a better phrase - turned into a dick.

Thankfully not, as it turns out. Very much the other way around. Apparently every day at school a boy tells my son things don't exist. Not the fanciful stuff that five year old kids make up. But things like apples. And England. My son - clearly irritated - tells me, "he says that I only think apples are real because I'm from New York."

Which is when the whole jellyfish thing came up. Out front of the pool at my complex are a line of those boxwood plants that smell like cat urine. At least I bloody hope that what that is. Quite why the landscaping people opted for a piss-bush next to the pool is anyone's guess. Although apparently it's to ward off the hordes of actual cats from gushing their horrible whizz around the pool. The hordes of cats which have freely been allowed to multiply (at least the exterminator/maintenance guy who fixed my stove informed me) because they really help keep the rats/roaches/leprechauns (probably) at bay.

Anyhoo - the kids and I wandered past the pool during the week and my daughter jokingly asked, "oh Daddy did you pee yourself?!" And I instinctively responded that yes I had. But only because I thought I saw a jellyfish in the pool. Better be safe than sorry. Which Owen found funny. Because Daddy talking about pissing himself is funny. Although I imagine if I was one of those Dads that actually did piss himself then the chuckles wouldn't have been so forthcoming. My daughter quickly went from "ewww!!" to wanting an explanation. So I told the old, stereotypical story about how somehow years ago - before even Daddy was born (Owen: "What like 196 years ago!!?") - someone was stung by a jellyfish and someone sprayed them with yellow shame, and they felt all better.


Jump forward a few days and Owen told the arrogant kid at school that you can stop jellyfish from stinging you by pissing on them. Possibly true. Oddly the other kid ignored the whole issue of fighting off jellyfish with wee and denied that jellyfish even exist in the first place. Bold move that. Then he threw the weird, "well maybe in New York they do.....snort...." thing at him. Which is the kind of Massive Twat denigration that I was alluding to earlier. That would have annoyed me, let alone a five year old.

I'm dearly hoping that kid really thinks he's got one over on my son. Feels really smug about it. So smug that come Halloween he rolls into school dressed like one of those glow in the dark box jellyfish. That he says are imaginary monsters. "Except in New York.....snort."

And then Owen pisses all over him.


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