A recent exchange between myself and a third grade boy in my theatre class. "Ms. Winston did you get a hair cut?" I replied, happy that someone had noticed, "Yes, I did." His response, "Oh, I wasn't sure, it kinda looks like you bought some bangs and glued them on." Let's face it, kids speak the truth, like it or not. They haven't developed that social filter yet. The one that causes you to bite your tongue when a fair-skinned person asks if you like her mustard-colored sweater. The real answer is "No, you look washed out - actually a little sick." But we have been conditioned to say, "You look lovely." She already bought the sweater- she's out in public. No need to make her feel bad about something that's too late to change. Children on the other hand, say it like it is. I have had quite a few zingers- the majority from my own little ones. Here are a few:
"Mom, that lady is the same age as you. Why doesn't she have big bags under her eyes like you do?"
"Mommy, I like when I hug you - you are so soft and squishy."
"Why is part of your hair brown and the rest blonde?"
"Do other people lose their car keys everyday?"
"Will I have lots of wrinkles like you when I grow up?"
"Mom, you need to wear a bra - even in your nightgown. It looks gross."
That is just a smattering, I could go on and on. I'm sure you've been on the receiving end of such truths. Let me know if you have any great ones to add.
I remember on the morning of my Daddy's 50th birthday. I went up to him crying. When he asked me what was wrong. I said, "You're 50. That's so old. Now you're going to die!"
Payback is a bitch my friends.
Monday, December 16, 2013
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Some Holiday Advice
Ahhh...the holidays! I love this time of year. That being said, I'm not thrilled about all the rude, impatient, stressed out people we will encounter during the madness and pressure of creating the "perfect" holiday. It all begins on Black Friday. People literally stampeding each other to save 20 dollars on a video game. Parents cutting in line with their children to visit Santa. The parking space stealers. The list goes on and on.
I now hold my tongue when it comes to confronting all the hanging-by-a-thread lunatics lurking about. I learned my lesson nine years ago - the day before I gave birth to my daughter Georgia. It started out simply. I went to see an 11am matinee of "The Incredibles" at the Sherman Oaks Galleria with my husband Matt, our three year old son Rowan, our friend George and his 10 year old boy. We loved the movie. The credits started rolling, the lights went up in the theatre and everyone started to exit. Matt, being the ever-thoughtful guy, was hunched over, scooping up all the popcorn and candy that had missed our son's mouth and landed on the sticky floor. George, his son and I stood up and started recounting our favorite parts of the movie as we were waiting for Matt to finish - when I heard from the stadium seats two rows above us, "Move or sit the f*ck down!" I maneuvered my very large, ready-to-burst belly around to see three 20-something guys - one that looked like Biff from "Back to the Future" - sprawled out with their feet on the seats in front of them. I was disgusted. "Really? Are you kidding me? You're going to talk that way to a pregnant woman with small children?" To which he sneered, "Yes I am. Sit the f*ck down." Now I was enraged. "You're a piece of garbage! And why don't you take your dirty feet off the seats!" Then he hurled another "f*ck you" my way. During this brief exchange Matt was still obliviously cleaning up and looking for one of Rowan's toys. My friend George heard it all though and his Lebanese temper quickly boiled over. He started shaking all of our nearly empty soda cups to see which one was fullest. When he found the one, he tossed the contents up at the guy and yelled, "You need to cool down buddy!" Almost instantly the Biff-looking character jumped down two rows and landed on top of George, fists flying. I screamed "Help!" like a woman in a 1970's disaster movie and pulled the kids out of the fray. Matt finally saw what was going on, jumped on the guy who was punching George and put him in a choke hold. The guy started to go limp and Matt shouted "It's over! It's OVER!!" It looked like a WWE match only it was real. I peered up, still screeching, praying the other two guys wouldn't join in. Luckily they didn't.
Finally two dorky movie security guards arrived after everything had started to calm down and we were all escorted from the theatre, despite my protestations of innocence. After saying goodbye to George and his son, we silently waited for the valet to bring our minivan up. When we got in the car, Matt said, "You know, you caused this. You need to learn to keep your mouth shut with a$%holes like that. You don't know what someone's gonna do." As much as I wanted to disagree - I knew he was right. You can't get in arguments with strangers. You never know what kind of crazy you're dealing with. So this holiday season (or anytime really) when a stranger says something rude, cuts you off in traffic or takes the last doorbuster sale item from your hands and you want to respond remember "The Incredibles" take a breath and move on.
I now hold my tongue when it comes to confronting all the hanging-by-a-thread lunatics lurking about. I learned my lesson nine years ago - the day before I gave birth to my daughter Georgia. It started out simply. I went to see an 11am matinee of "The Incredibles" at the Sherman Oaks Galleria with my husband Matt, our three year old son Rowan, our friend George and his 10 year old boy. We loved the movie. The credits started rolling, the lights went up in the theatre and everyone started to exit. Matt, being the ever-thoughtful guy, was hunched over, scooping up all the popcorn and candy that had missed our son's mouth and landed on the sticky floor. George, his son and I stood up and started recounting our favorite parts of the movie as we were waiting for Matt to finish - when I heard from the stadium seats two rows above us, "Move or sit the f*ck down!" I maneuvered my very large, ready-to-burst belly around to see three 20-something guys - one that looked like Biff from "Back to the Future" - sprawled out with their feet on the seats in front of them. I was disgusted. "Really? Are you kidding me? You're going to talk that way to a pregnant woman with small children?" To which he sneered, "Yes I am. Sit the f*ck down." Now I was enraged. "You're a piece of garbage! And why don't you take your dirty feet off the seats!" Then he hurled another "f*ck you" my way. During this brief exchange Matt was still obliviously cleaning up and looking for one of Rowan's toys. My friend George heard it all though and his Lebanese temper quickly boiled over. He started shaking all of our nearly empty soda cups to see which one was fullest. When he found the one, he tossed the contents up at the guy and yelled, "You need to cool down buddy!" Almost instantly the Biff-looking character jumped down two rows and landed on top of George, fists flying. I screamed "Help!" like a woman in a 1970's disaster movie and pulled the kids out of the fray. Matt finally saw what was going on, jumped on the guy who was punching George and put him in a choke hold. The guy started to go limp and Matt shouted "It's over! It's OVER!!" It looked like a WWE match only it was real. I peered up, still screeching, praying the other two guys wouldn't join in. Luckily they didn't.
Finally two dorky movie security guards arrived after everything had started to calm down and we were all escorted from the theatre, despite my protestations of innocence. After saying goodbye to George and his son, we silently waited for the valet to bring our minivan up. When we got in the car, Matt said, "You know, you caused this. You need to learn to keep your mouth shut with a$%holes like that. You don't know what someone's gonna do." As much as I wanted to disagree - I knew he was right. You can't get in arguments with strangers. You never know what kind of crazy you're dealing with. So this holiday season (or anytime really) when a stranger says something rude, cuts you off in traffic or takes the last doorbuster sale item from your hands and you want to respond remember "The Incredibles" take a breath and move on.
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