Thanksgiving

It turns out, after all, that Bubby is indeed thankful for Tootsie. So sweet! He also knows what octagons are, and when asked if he realized how smart he is, he replied, "I'm the man!"

Tootsie is thankful for dogs. She loves ours, even though he won't sleep in Tootsie's bed and follows Daddy around everywhere. He also ate a wishbone, whole, so we'll see what happens with that. We may have to get a new dog. Yes, that sounds cold and callous, but it is what it is. Survival of the fittest.

This week, my students wanted to do some fun Thanksgiving activities, but I reminded them there is no fun in my class, so instead we read a story by Langston Hughes titled "Thank You, M'am." It's one of my favorites--a boy tries to steal a woman's purse, but instead, she kicks his butt, puts him in a half nelson, and drags him to her apartment where she makes him clean up and eat a decent meal; she then teaches him a lesson about asking, not stealing. Then, we wrote turkey-themed sentences and diagrammed them on the board. It was a kickin time, to be sure. All work and no play makes one very good at grammar. That's not true; we did have tons of fun trying to reflect the sunlight off a textbook into my eyes. Then, the kids were pretty impressed that I didn't flip out on them. Who cares? It's sunlight. Mind you, this is the cool class; they understand my sarcasm, and I understand theirs, so no one was upset when I explained that the ensuing blindness would result in their all receiving F's on their report cards because I would not be able to see the actual averages, and the letter F is the only one on the computer keyboard that can be felt, due to its bumpy marker thing.

Anyway, tomorrow we will cook a chicken, not a turkey, because we're nonconformists. Enjoy your foul day.

Funny and Accurate

I came across this, and it's so true. Being employed, I just can't figure out how not to throw money in the hole.

In The Know: Should The Government Stop Dumping Money Into A Giant Hole?

Why Must They Annihilate My Youth?

Another song has been desiccated by musicians exploiting the ballads of our youth in an effort to turn a quick profit in the children's music industry. How many of us defined our high school years with skin-tight jeans, bandanas, and Guns 'N Roses? Well, Welcome to the Jungle...................................................................Gym. Yup, I heard it on satellite today. And you know what? When you're high, you never want to come down, to the ground. Welcome to the jungle gym. We got fun and games. We can play anything you want. We won't call you names. WTF? And that fabulous Axl Rose scream? Well, it's been replaced with Tarzanesque warbling. If you're brave enough, check it out here. Spoiler alert: it will completely obliterate anything that was rough, dangerous, and thrilling about high school and youth. Yes, I know it's a parody, but it's all squeaky clean, politically correct, happy, happy, no one can do wrong, let's all play together, artificial, feel-good euphoria. What has this world come to? Is Nine Inch Nails next? How about Eminem?

Children, Voting, and a Little Rant

I missed Bubby and Tootsie's first visit to the polls on Tuesday. They went with Daddy and voted. Apparently, when they emerged from the booth, three-year-old Bubby raised his arms in victory and exclaimed, "I voted!" Everyone in the polling place stopped and applauded him. Awesome.

Voting with Mom was not as thrilling. We drove like maniacs to reach our polling place on time (I had to stay after school to hear auditions), making it with just seven minutes to spare. We ran (envision the cartoon mother trailing her little ones who are flapping up and down behind her). We approached the doors, and as I whizzed past, I asked the man standing there if we still had time. He said yes, and then he told me for whom I should vote. I almost skidded to a stop. Had I not, that very afternoon, discussed with my students that political supporters must maintain a certain distance from the polls, and no t-shirts, buttons, posters, pamphlets, etc., are to be present within so many feet of the polling area? What was he doing there? And I so desperately wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but I was sure that piece was at least thirty-five seconds long, and time was ticking away.

I flew into the school's multipurpose room, sped to the table, signed the form, and whisked the kids into the booth--all the way hearing the warning to keep the kids to my left, all the while asking myself what the hell difference it makes what side they stand on. (FYI: the vote button is on the right--I guess they were assuming my kids were like all those other ill-behaved, snotty brats who don't listen to their mothers, which is simply not true. My children listen in public.) I let the kids alternate pushing the buttons for me. They were pretty happy that they got to vote a second time, but there was no applause this time. We walked out of the polling place at 7:59:58, and everyone there was tired, irritated, and ready to go home. I'm not sure whether my own children even remember it or if it has been burned into their memories as this wild blur of motion while they were grasping my hands desperately hoping that I wouldn't leave them behind.

Regardless, the night made history, and even though I had serious issues with both of the major candidates, I am supporting our new President. Daddy recorded Obama's speech, and Tootsie and Bubby got to watch it--a pretty momentous thing. I've spent the past three weeks asking my students to watch for the lack of patriotism in the election, to see how many times candidates bashed the current President (the English teacher is always looking at language). Like it or lump it, he has been our President for the past eight years, and he is due some respect. We may not agree with some of "his" decisions, but he's the President, the leader of the land of the free and the home of the brave. Or should that be the land of the free and the home of the spoiled and disrespectful? How much patriotism have we lost? Where is that American pride? It's so unpatriotic for the country to repeatedly badmouth our leader. How weak that makes us look. Maybe we have truly been that weak. Maybe all of those military personnel who offer Bush the utmost respect are the only patriotic people around. Good for them. Perhaps, now, with a fantastic new "change," we'll all follow suit.

Little People Musings

It's official. Bubby has announced that party poopers are disgusting.

He also informed me that he would be very sad and would cry if he dropped Batman and Robin in the potty--because then he'd have to poop on them.

Noctober is a new month because Bubby does not like November. He could not tell me why, but he insists that he HATES November. I personally have never held such enmity for a month. I'm not that fond of March, but I don't want to banish it and turn it into Mapril.

Tootsie plans to vote for McCain because she thinks Obama will allow kids to stay home from school, and apparently education is important to Tootsie. That makes me happy. That education is important. I'm not too happy about her being grossly misinformed, but at least she is considering an issue and has concluded that kids belong in school, especially whichever kid told her Obama would let kids stay home.

Christmas is awesome because, according to Tootsie, all of the presents from Santa are free. I guess that's what happens when you are able to enslave large numbers of elves.

That's all I have for today. By the way, we had nine trick-or-treaters, and one informed me that kids from the front of the neighborhood don't come "all the way back here." We're one-quarter mile from their houses. If they're that lazy, then they don't deserve the candy. I gave the girl who informed me two extra scoops from my bowl. There's nothing sadder than lazy kids on Halloween.