Noteworthy

Yesterday, I was rockin' to C&W music in the car on the way to Walmart. Yep, I'm completely aware of the image that I portray, but don't care. I've given up on fitting in with the locals - it's just not worth the Prozac toxicity it would take to alter the savvy right out of me.

Anyway, I heard a new-to-me song. The song itself wasn't anything to write home about, but the chorus . . .

God is Great. Beer is Good. And, People are Crazy.

It really spoke to me.

On a level that says, Hey, Savvy, that explains about 95% of life's events.

Once again, Nashville nailed it.

Mood Elevators Wouldn't Be As Much Fun

Even I noticed that I was MIA this time. It's not like I didn't want to blog and it's certainly not like there weren't random bloggable thoughts running through my mind. It's just that I have been busy.

You know. What with toilets and all.

Also, I managed to find myself enrolled in school again & I fear that the prof for the class might very well be the Nutrition Nazi in disguise. I think we may have a wee bit of a chip on the shoulder. I don't just teach a class about what to eat, I lecture on the finer points of biochemistry and the interaction of cells . . . blah, blah, blah.

Since this class is just a prerequisite, I just wanted the What to Eat 101 Lecture & Lab Series taught by Paula Deen. Easy A+ for me. Especially if weight gain earns me extra credit.

So, guess what? I have a mountain of nutrition reading and work to do.

And, here I am with sparkly clean toilets, freshly vacuumed floors, & empty laundry baskets sitting in front of my computer. Not doing schoolwork.

But telling you about my latest Adventures in Kindergarten.

Right after we moved to NoVa and sometime before I hooked up with the Food Poliezi, I was looking for something to do & practically begged casually mentioned that I would like to work with the Kindy Kids one day a week. So, here I am, 5 weeks into my latest volunteer assignment wondering what the heck I was thinking.

Bored? Since when is that a huge problem? Go find a toilet to scrub, an HGTV show to watch or a glass of wine that needs to be chugged sipped.

Need to make friends? Since when is Kindergarten the place to accomplish that?

Need a boost in self-esteem? Stay far, far away from small children. They tend not to have the filters that mute brutal honesty.

Last week I found myself elbow deep in scissors & glue sticks working with small groups of small kids on a flower life-cycle science/art project. Normally, this would have been right up my alley, and it was. Until a point.

Instead of cutting and gluing with proper determination & speed, the little chit-chatters were lallygagging & chattering away about birthdays & who was still 5, who was already 6, who had what party planned, what kind of cake, etc. etc.

Suddenly, it got really quiet & 5 sets of eyes were on me . . . Hey Mrs. MiniMe's Mom, how old are you?

That's it. The point where I faced the moral dilemma of either flat out lying to small children making something up at random that sounded good or telling the truth.

I thought about fudging the truth, but I couldn't decide what number to lie about. While I was flipping numbers in my mind (22? 28? 30? 35? 50?. . . 15?) it occurred to me that anything over the age of their oldest sibling was going to sound ancient, so I opted for the truth.

Besides, do they fire volunteers who lie to children? That might not pan out too well if I ever wanted to avoid more nutrition homework volunteer with first graders.

Well, Little Suzie (& all your extremely nosey little friends) I am 37.

Loud & Proud, my friends.

Wow! Mrs. MiniMe's Mom! That's really old. My mom is only 25.

My mom is only 28.

My mom is 32 and my dad is 33. You're like way older than both of them.

Yeah, I think my grandma might be 37.
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On a much lighter note, MiniMe was the Office Helper last week & thoroughly enjoyed every minute of every additional duty. She was beyond excited to wipe off the girls' table after lunch, escort classmates to & from the office/nurse's office, collect the library books and take the attendance to the office.

Bossy and prefers to be in charge? Not sure where those traits are coming from.

Anyway, she told me that the teacher takes grades on attendance. Two of kids got A's & two other kids got really, really bad grades.

Mom! They were so bad, they got T's!

For those of you not well versed in teacher-speak, A=absent & T=tardy.

I think these kids are more than ready for first grade. And, while they blaze a trail up the hallway to the first grade classrooms, I think I might just hang back with the new kindy class.

Either that, or I am totally grabbing a glass of Merlot & parking my patootie in front of FoodTV. If Paula can't raise my self-esteem, chase away boredom & be my new best friend, there's always my new dietary analysis software.

B All That You Can B

As you all know, we upped & moved to Northern Virginia earlier this year. What you may not know is that most of the time I either feel as out of place as the HillBillies in Beverly.

Or, atheist at a pentecostal tent revival.

I won't go into long drawn out examples of how a little hair color & make-up would go a long ways out here in the 'burbs. Nor will I complain too much about living in an ultra-conservative neighborhood.

Yes, MiniMe watches Hannah Montana & SpongeBob (totally hanging my head in shame). Let me tell ya folks, that puts me smack-dab at the bottom of the neighborhood Bad Parent Heap.

Perhaps it's because I allowed Laze-E to watch PG-13 movies before she actually turned 13 that her report card showed up today looking like a big hive of buzzing bees.

Actually, she did have one lone A.

In PE, of all things. Which is a marked improvement over the Big Fat F that she managed last year. I suppose I should celebrate even the small victories that come along, right?

Perhaps, Laze-E's report card would have been her usual mix of A's & B's if the standards around here were typical of the rest of the world. But, no. We live in the Land of the Six-Point Grading System.

Want an A?

Better get a 94 or higher.

Sorry Sweetie, advanced courses don't count extra.

That's right, my child didn't stand a chance. The 92.8 that she managed in Honors English showed up on her report card as a B+.

Remember, we aren't from around these parts & we watch whatever comes on Disney or Nick without regard to appropriateness or obvious educational benefits. So, when we are happy with a such a grade, it just underscores our mediocrity.

We (read: Laze-E) might not be pulling down straight A's around here, but we (read: me & my savvy readers) are laughing hysterically at this week's winner of

HausFrau's Situational Irony Award.

Laze-E had Career Day at school today & came home all bummed out that she didn't get into the Papa John's seminar. Not because flinging dough is her career ambition, but they were offering free pizza for the participants.

Did you catch that? Our so-fiss-to-cated neighbors & their brilliant kids learned all about a career at a cookie-cutter, national chain pizza joint.

Can I get a big belly laugh from anyone?

I don't know about you, but where I come from (howdy to all my amigos down in the LoneStar state!), we might give you more opportunity to bring home an A (like 89.5-100 if HausFrau is your teacher), making it less prestigious. But, we know how to round up doctors, lawyers & military servicemembers to show up for Career Day.

Of course, we can also round up a few rednecks & topless waitresses. I guess it depends on exactly what kind of career day you want to have.

And, what student population you wish to target.

Yep, my friends. This is Savvy's Dad. His cover story is that he was in a drama production for a community fundraiser. He was the gay cowboy.

Because that's realistic for Texas . . .

I don't know if I am buying that story. I tend to believe it was Career Day at some nameless high school west of Ft. Worth.

Say Cheese

Dear Mom & Aunt Savvy,

In my defense . . .

Was it not bad enough that you dragged me to see Hannah Montana, the super dumb & completely lame Movie this morning? Only two things good about that little adventure: #1 - you let me bring my DS & #2 - it was pretty funny when Jackson had that unfortunate run-in with the gator. It's not like I can even add popcorn or a soda to the List of Good Things About the Movie Experience because Aunt Savvy you two were too cheap to do more than pay for a matinee.

Obviously, dragging me to the movie wasn't the only torture you had in store. I know this because right after the movie you dragged me over to look at the "pretty" pink flowers. Then, to add insult to injury, you threatened to take away my DS if I did not get out of the van and look all happy & full of sunshine about those dumb flowers.

What did I ever do to deserve this? And, don't mention that one time I puked at the dinner table while the rest of you (& all the surrounding tables full of restaurant patrons) were trying to enjoy the famous BBQ. Trust me, that wasn't much fun for me either. And, I didn't think the brisket tasted all that famous anyway.

Back to my defense strategy should The Case of FryBoy ever go to court . . . apparently, you weren't going to stop with the BoyTorture until you snapped "the perfect" picture of me with the girls and the dumb flowers. I know I was supposed to be smiling in this picture.

With teeth showing.

But not so much that I did the dorky kid-smile.

And, certainly not my signature smile where I show all my teeth & let my tongue ooze out from the missing teeth holes. Even though that's my favorite.

Oh yeah. And, I was supposed to be looking at the camera.

Seriously? All these rules. I'm just a little boy!

Oh, and I would like to mention that threat to speed dial the Easter Bunny to tell him to hop on past my house was a low blow. Next time, just jerk a knot in my tail, or beat me like you promised & be done with it. It will certainly help my defense if there's some prior evidence of child abuse to present to the jury.

There's only so much flowers & sunshine & sparkles & secret pop star fluff that a boy can take before a boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do.

Don't blame me, you wanted me to smile & look all happy. And, by-golly, I think I do.

I'm quite happy. And, pleased with myself.

Hey, it's not my fault the girls over-reacted and ruined the picture.

Geez, it was just a little fart. And, we all know Aunt Savvy can get way more mileage out of a picture like this. So, all I have to say is: you are very welcome.

I guess my defense is really a creative offense . . . I did you a favor.

Sincerely,

FryBoy, age 9

PS - You think maybe next time you can feed me before you inflict picture punishment on me?

PSS - Oh, and that Hannah Montana thing, can we keep that a secret from my friends?