Monday, September 10, 2007

so much depends upon an orange scooter...

As always happens when something important occurs in Real Life, blogging takes a backseat. As odd as it sounds, and as busy as I am, I don't want to get out of the habit. Blogging is my deal. It's helped me through so many moments in my life where I might have gone crazy from Events Beyond My Control.

And since I have nothing career-wise except helping Jethro with the clinic (and I'm more than fine with that), I'd like to have some kind of outlet. And this, dear friends, is it. It's not a lot, to be sure, but it is me and I need it.

Just had to get that out there.


Jethro, the girls and I have been running back and forth from New Town to Houston for two weekends now and are planning to go back again this weekend. We have a lot of crap at the old house to clear out, sell, or throw on a bonfire. It's amazing how much junk I considered important and still would if the thought of sifting through it didn't set my ADD into overdrive.

Anyway, this past weekend, Jethro, the girls and I stopped at my mom's house on the way back to New Town to say "hi" to my family and "happy birthday" to one of my sisters.

In the midst of our visit, my Lesbian Sister showed up looking quite eccentric with her hair windswept into a somewhat terrifying coiffure and wearing a bike helmet as well as a t-shirt that said I *heart* Frat Boys. She wears shirts like these to tease men then cock-block them into complete emasculation when she insists that she's gay. She intends the Patriarchy to suffer greatly at her hands. But I digress.

The girl had bought herself a little orange scooter and had driven about 40 miles out to my mom's house on some fairly speedy roads. She then proceeded to take my youngest sisters on it sans helmet, while I clucked my disapproval. And I'm a tool for doing it. I should have just punched her in the face and welded that helmet to their heads.

She then tried to make me let Gwennie and Emma on the scooter.

I said, "no, no, no."

She said I was one of "those" moms.

I said she sounded like a teenage drug dealer.

She said my children were going to be jealous of her children.

I said I was sorry I wasn't a cool Lesbian scooter-rider, but the answer was still "no," and any rebellion on their part would be paid for in belt welts. And I meant it.

She changed the subject. She told us how truck drivers had no appreciation for the fact that she was trying to save the environment and how she'd gotten into a middle-finger duel with one of them on the way.

Since she has converted to Lesbian Environmentalism, I have decided it is prudent to hold my tongue. Pointing out that truck drivers' more pressing concern of not running over idiot scooter-riders, takes somewhat of a precedent over an environmental agenda is like trying to convert a Jehovah's Witness to Satanism.

What is it with my family and joyless sanctimonious ideology? Can't they just relax for awhile? Haven't we been on that train long enough?

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