Tuesday, July 29

Paging Ms. White, your indignation is ready

Happy Monday!

What?

It's Tuesday and I haven't posted for a week - what the hell is up with that? And why haven't I talked about Chuck Norris in ages? Questions for the universe to answer because I'm too lazy to figure out on my own.

Now that I've broken the awkward silence - or at least the awkward silence in my head, let's get this party started.

You know the silence I speak of - the "omg I haven't posted in, like, forever and what if my next post is really lame and everyone is like, omg, what the hell happened and why would she think I want to read this post". Oh you know the post anxiety I speak of, I know you do.

Anyhow - some words of wisdom: Chuck Norris does not age. Every birthday, it's just another year added to his existence, which sucks for you.

Moving right along: I discovered my daughter has been channelling Margaret White a la Carrie, and she is doing it very well.

For instance, I did a mud mask some weeks back, in a lame attempt at purification of the motherbumper skin which has been particularly bumpy of late, and the reaction from Gigi was loud and unmistakeably negative. She started screaming at me that it was wrong to put mud on my face

Wait, that's not me with the mud mask, that's Christopher Hitchens. It's the bandanna that gave it away - all mine are black. And my chest hair is more luscious.

Anyhow, she starts screaming at me that mud on my face is BAAAAAAAAD and that I need to take it off - RIGHT.NOW! It got so bad, my smoke dropped into my morning mug of Tennessee walking water while being chased around by Gigi and I spent the rest of the day draining ashes out my precious mommy juice. Talk about sacrifices in parenting.

Then a few days later, I was out on the balcony painting my foot talons black and she started scolding me on how WRONG it is to paint my toenails. At this point I figured she had been talking to my mom who is a supporter of only the traditional lady-like spectrum of nail colours (cotton candy through cherries in the snow).

If you could have seen the look on Gigi's face during her inspection of my pedicure prowess. It was the same look my mom gives me after treating me to a pedicure that results in some strange dark colour selection. I almost expected Gigi to shake her head and say "Oh Katie" while simultaneously sighing a sigh that tugged on my shame-shroud.

But I finally figured out that my child was a fanatical zealot and not channelling my mom when we were sharing a tub this past weekend.

She offered to scrub my back and who am I to say no to that kind of offer. Anyhow, while she was working away at making sure nary a square inch was devoid of suds she started to scour my lower back while muttering under her breath. I tried to make out what she was saying but only caught a few words "dirty", "wrong", and "bad". WTH?

Gently I asked what was wrong and hoped for some clarification about what was obviously upsetting her so much. But I got no response - just more muttering and hard-core scrubbing.

Finally I figured out what was creating so much work and sense of indignation. The kid was trying to scrub off my tattoo. I explained to her that it was part of me, and started to explain why I selected the image so permanent on my lower back.

But in all seriousness, I hesitated when our eyes met and for a split second I expected my daughter to scream hooooooo-or, floozy, demimondaine*, or harlot while thrusting her accusing yet totally cute pointing digit into my face. But no - there was no name calling or inappropriate labelling, she just once again told me it was WROOOONG.
* good work thesaurus junior

So my kid is a fuddy duddy and I'm too James Dean for her likings. Oh this parenthood gig is gonna be a fun, fun ride. Let's just hope our telekinetic knife fight results in sautéed veggies for dinner because I can't cope with another trip to the ER this month.

19 comments:

for a different kind of girl said...

This is where I'm probably glad I have boys, because I'm still getting enough of the silent looks of disdain from my mother, who laid out a double edged look up and down my up-until-that moment appropriate form last night, looked at the box of photographs of me from year's past spread out on her table (this was either a shrine or just a random retirement project, who knows), then tsk'd me(SHE TSK'D ME!!), and said she didn't even recognize me anymore.

Thanks, Mom. Just thanks. I waved a semi-dismissive hand, tipped in dark, dark green, thank you very much, at her and went about my way.

However, when my youngest does point at something on me, he does it with his middle finger, which, sadly, I find adorable.

Could this ramble more? No? 'K. I'll be around later.

Mayberry said...

OK, so I just commented at Julie's that I am totally a rule-follower, but Miss Gigi is giving me a run for my money, I see. And yours.

SciFi Dad said...

Heh. When I take a bath with my daughter she wants to colour in my tattoos (specifically the sun one) with bath paints.

I wonder if we should start a pool to see how long before we hear about wire hangers from Gigi...

kittenpie said...

Oooh, preschoolers are such sticklers for RULES! Mine has taken to informing us of which words we've said are BAD words ("What the heck" being a frequent offender), and when we are WRONG. Thanks, kid. Mine, though, loves temp tattoos so much that my real ones don't faze her one bit.

And hey - I was wondering last night - how are Gigi's teeth?

Kyla said...

BubTar is a rule follower. I can't help needling him for it. I break the rules on purpose just to see how long it takes for his voice to morph into the REALLY TIGHT noise that attempts to correct me, just before losing his mind. That's mature of me, right?

Mandy said...

You're going to have an easy ride through the teenage years if it stays this way... anti-rebellion.

Glad to see you back.

Briya said...

LOL. I understand the feeling. When I got my husband & I got our last tattoos, my son shakes his head and says.. Who's parents goes out for pizza and comes back with TATTOO?! He was completely disgusted.

So I hope it lasts, the boy got his 1st tattoo last month.

Amy Urquhart said...

ahahha I guess you'll be ready when it's your turn to judge her tastes and her choices in tattoo imagery.

Jezer said...

Oh, Gigi...

I'm still not sure where Al falls on the continuum--conservative like his papa or not-so-much like me. All he says about my tattoos are "that you fwower?" (Flowers appear in NEITHER of my tattoos, just for the record.) (And how telling is it that I felt the need to clarify that?)

But exactly what does it mean if my kid demands that I paint *his* toenails black, too?

Ali said...

oh, if i had a tattoo...i can assure you, all three of my kids would react the exact. same. way. *sigh*

Tania said...

If you ever colour your hair, can I be there to see Gigi's reaction?

Jess said...

Oh my God, she's going to keep you on your toes your entire life, isn't she??

Too late to tell her you were marked by God?

Velma said...

This is too damn funny. Where can I get me some of that Tennessee walking water, huh?

Kat said...

First of all SciFi dad - hee hee hee "Noooo Wiirreee Hanngers!!"

I laughed through this entire post. Luckily (or maybe not) my boys luv tattoos and ask for a new one everyday. The 8 y/o picked out one that says "Sithe", from Star Wars and put it on his neck. From faraway it looks like it says "Bitch". Oh yeah, I have gotten plenty of looks for that one! I bet she changes her tune come the teen years!

Run ANC said...

Demimondaine? Impressive.

I thought it was normal to have that kind of post anxiety every time - not just after a long silence? Crap.

VICTORIA said...

Oh yes, when they start to figure out we are not just MOMMY...we are real people too!
My son exclaimed the first time he saw my tattoo to my lower back...
"Mommy! Sumbuddy colored on you back!!"
Too cute...

karengreeners said...

you're retarded. and i can't. stop. laughing.

White Hot Magik said...

That was very funny. My first visit here.

Anonymous said...

Totally random Chuck Norris-related comment: I heard Chuck on an ad on the radio recruiting for the Border Patrol. Just a bit disconcerting. Why does Chuck need help? Shouldn't he be able to protect all the borders in the world simultaneously?