TAKE A CHILL PILL PARENTS!

I say Hooray for the lady trying to start a movement for kids to play unsupervised.  If you were looking at a pendulum as a measure of parenting, I would say it's gone way to the right. I would say the way I was raised in the 1960's the pendulum was way to the left. When I say left, I mean Fishsticks, Jello, and Tang for supper.  I say ENOUGH with the Helicopter parents.  You know the parents, they obsessively check their childs grade, they make the child play with whom they want, they know too much what is going on at school and among their friends.   My 4 daughters seem to be succeeding with my reverse psychology.  I tell them to tell their teacher not to send me emails about school work.  I say, "I've already gone to school and I'm not going to school for you."  With my two college kids I had no preconceived notions or fields of study that I wanted them in.  I always told them, "Do what you love and try to find a way to support yourself, and if it means living in a 500 sq ft studio apartment for the rest of your life, so be it." (How many of us secretly want to live in a 500 sq ft studio apartment?).  Let me give you an example.   I had to go to this Catholic School to take care of some business (I forgot my 3rd daughter was suppose to make her confirmation last year, afterall the running around I did, she decided she didn't want to hassle with it this year because her plate was full already, Cross Country Running, ACT Prep, and Tanning).  So I told her when she gets married she will have to go the Justice Of The Peace and get married like I did, in back of a subdivison, in a den, in front a broken fireplace with her heels getting caught in some 1972 shag carpet soiled from home schooled kids.  Just as well, we have no money for a "fancy"  wedding or even enough money to tip the Porter at a Drive Through Elvis Chapel.  As I was walking through the courtyard of this Catholic School, I see this kid that may have drank too many Kool-Aids and eaten too many Airheads.  I'm not writing about something I don't know, my oldest daughter growing up looked like she drank too many Kool- Aids too. I never said anything but my Grandma surely did.   Grandma to Oldest Daughter, "Why you a fat little girl aren't you?".... It's all good now, she went to college, her freshman dorm mates got her hooked on Vyvannese, she dropped 30 lbs, and now has her on prescription.  I still get this daughter telling me weekly, "Why did you let me get fat & not say anything?".... Well, I guess cuz I'm overweight myself, so that would make me one big old hypocrite with a capital E.   Getting back to Catholic Boy, Camelot, Kingston, Edwardian, Lexington, Baron, or Napoleon (one of those uppety names) walked up to the water fountain and started hyperventilating over a FLY.  He started crying, shaking, sweating, and getting red in the face.  This OTHER little boy walked up to Camelot, Kingston, Edwardian, Lexington, Baron, or Napoleon and said, "It's okay, everything is going to be alright."  I thought, "Did this kid really have a problem? or Did his parents cause him to become a Hypercondriac?... Did he suffer from true Panic Attacks?..... Or was he just a Crybaby?.....I have a daughter that suffers Panic Attacks, we got her on Zoloft which cured about 95% of her Panic Attacks.  When she has a Panic Attack she calls me and I say,  "It's okay, everything is going to be alright(Crybaby)."  Camelot, Kingston, Edwardian, Lexington, Baron, Napoleon looked like a kid seeking attention, so I gave him attention.  I invited him to come to my house to watch a taped commericial of little African children with FLIES ALL OVER THERE FACE, where these kids don't even FLINCH when the fly lands on their eyeballs.   I will then tell him to go back to school, open the bible, and KEEP READING cuz Jesus is coming soon, and he's not taking Crybabies with him!!!....The End~

YOU CALL THAT TOILET CLEAN?..THAT'S HALF ASS!

   More stories about "Felix" is what I get daily.  So here we go... "Felix" was in public education for 42 years.  He was first a teacher, then a guidance counselor, then an assistant principal, finally a principal.. He could have been on the school board but he said he wasn't Kissing Anyone's Ass, so he retired from being a principal.  His school was in the Ghetto.  I went to this school in the 70's but didn't realize it was in the Ghetto.  All I remember was my bus would pass in front of the Projects then we would turn on this road.  I never looked at street signs so I don't know if the road was called Martin Luther King Dr. always or was it renamed.  "Felix" took pride in his Ghetto school.  He never once called it a Ghetto school but a childhood friend told me we went to school in the Ghetto.  Maybe that is why I love Elvis Presley's song, "In The Ghetto", because it's my Alma Mater.  "Felix" ran his Ghetto school like a Navy Man would say, "A Tight Ship".  He walked those Ghetto halls all day long.  He would check on his teachers, the kids, the cafeteria, and finally the janitors.  I know he wanted to fire the teacher's that were doing a Half Ass job, but he couldn't because they had tenure.  He had some good teachers and he made sure I got them.  I still begrudge him for that one year he put me with the dummies.  The cool smart kids went to the English Teacher that slept during class.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?..I WANTED TO BE IN THAT CLASS!!!... I'm in Middle School, Do you think I'm worried about a descent education?...I was more worried about.. "What was for lunch in the cafeteria?... Was the spinach in the cafeteria that days mowed grass?...Will I smell like the cafeteria all day?....I can't actually eat in the cafeteria, only the poor kids do that, not the cool kids.  I wish my moma would buy me some "Love's Baby Soft perfume so I wouldn't smell like chicken, mash potatoes, bleach water and cafeteria plates".... I must have been a poor kid because I ate in the cafeteria all the way through school.  Eating in the cafeteria as a Senior was the WORST.  That's another issue I begrudge against my father, "Felix".   The only person that could hide from "Felix" was the janitor.  It made him crazy.  I remember a funny story how "Felix" walked into the bathrooms and smelled Pine-Sol.  Most principals would say, "smells clean therefore the toilets must be clean"..  "Felix took it one step futher and inspected those toilets"... RING AROUND THE TOILETS????.....UNACCEPTABLE!!!... There goes Felix on a mission to find the guilty janitor who might be in the broom closet taking a nap.  Up and Down, Up and Down, Felix looking for his janitor.  He finally finds him smoking a cigarette in his car.  "Felix" leads the janitor to the Pine-Sol bathroom and lifts the lid from the Ring Around Toilet and says to the janitor, "YOU CALL THAT TOILET CLEAN?.. THAT'S HALF ASS!!!.... You can't just throw Pine-Sol in the toilet and swish it around, THAT'S NOT CLEAN, You Must Use A Pulmic Stone, GET IN THERE WITH BOTH HANDS & SCRUBB!!!.....THAT'S HALF ASS... THAT'S HALF ASS.... THAT'S HALF ASS..... is all I heard growing up... On "Felix's" Tombstone... It will read "Felix" Born September 9, 1939~Died ?......From Heaven I hear...."My Tombstone Wasn't Even Finished... Figures...............It was done HALF ASS!"

THEY CALLED HIM WHAT?

My dad, "Felix Unger" just called to report another distant cousin or distant great uncle's death.  The way my dad approached death has become almost comical.  Last week he called to tell me the last of the uncles has died.  He then tells me their age, their aliment, and how we are related when I've met this uncle maybe twice in my lifetime.  "Felix" emailed me a few days ago to tell me his cousin they called "Choker" died. There were a bunch of boys all borned around 1939, he prides himself on be the Last One Standing.  Then there was "Shine" awhile back.  He himself is called "Buddy".  Wow, I don't see "Buddy" at all.  I look at my dad and I see Felix Unger. He described the funeral today.  There was a lot of people he says.  Now remember, "I want to be cremated or ya'll can donate my body to science or even better than that, put me in a field and let the Buzzards get me (that's if I have totally gone Senile)......Can you believe they want $10,000 for a coffin???.. For God's Sake that's what I paid for my first house in 1966.  I'll show those Funeral Directors a thing or two.  Speaking of two, Can you believe people pay two thousand maybe even more to bury their pet?.....Better yet send my body to a pet cementary, the cheapest way is the only way I say.".......After he has desensitized me towards death, I go on to ask him what did the nicknames mean.  "Well"....  he said, "Choker" was a football player. He was this Big Guy, he could  choke you so we called him "Choker".  I then ask him what about "Buddy", well "Buddy" was more like brother, his brother & sister called him that.   I ask the final question, "Dad, what the heck did "Shine" stand far?.... He then proceeded to tell me in his always politically incorrect way.....   "Well.... "Shine" was very dark and he had a shine to him so we called him "Shine".... Actually he was the best looking of all us, he always got the girls....It's "Felix's" 73rd birthday tomorrow.  May he continue to live another 20 years and never never succumb to Political Correctness....My stories wouldn't be as funny, you know deep down, I'm right....Ain't that right "Shine"!

She Drank Boo Boo Juice!

What am I suppose to say, my 18 year old daugher drank Booze on her Birthday and ended up in the Emergency Room?... Here' the story.  I had a group of girls at my house all giddy and getting ready to go out for my daughter's 18th Birthday.  I would walk into the bedroom and say to the girls, "It's kinda getting late, I hate that it's almost 10:00pm and ya'll not even out the door."  The reponse was, "Moma you don't remember being young?....Things don't start happening to at least 11:00pm."... My reply was, "I was NEVER young,  studying, school, housework, and working is all I ever knew."  Grant it I didn't have to walk 20 miles in 6 feet of Snow in Louisiana like my father, but pretty close to it.   Getting back to Birthday Girl....  She had a Sash Saying, "It's My Birthday...Kiss Me.... or Kiss and You Buy Me Booze" (I was't paying attention I thought it just said Birthday Girl) and a Crown that I didn't really see until the Emergency Visit.  Her older sisters were bringing these seniors to some college bars and if I'm not mistaken some girls looked like they had Fake ID's, I'm not sure, but when I looked at there drivers license, these American girls had Oriental features.  They told me Driver's license pictures have the worse lighting and you really never look like yourself.  It's not like a Bouncer would allow Beautiful Girls into a Bar Under Age.  Things like that NEVER happen.  I take my nightly cocktail of Ambien and Seroquel (Bi Polars Gotta Take Their Meds) and was just about to go to sleep when I get a call from an Ambulance Driver at about Midnight (A mother's WORSE NIGHTMARE) telling me my daughter will be find but needs to go to the emergency room because "someone" but something in her drink.  My oldest daughter gets on the phone and ask to speak to her dad.  He SCREAMS, "PUT HER ASS IN THE CAR AND BRING HER HOME"...I was SHOCKED, I said somebody put something in her Coke.  I then said, "I'm going to the emergency room NOW, I threw on my clothes and drove to the hospital with lots of  adreline pumping through my veins.  That Ambien & Seroquel didn't even have a chance of working....When it comes to my daughters, NOTHING stops me.  My husband on the other hand rolled over and went back to sleep.  This is typical.... I have FIGHT, what the Professionals call the "FIGHT OR FLIGHT RESPONSE"...I've always been a FIGHTER....My husband on the other hand avoids Conflict at all Cost, he takes Flight...I'm driving to the hospital with my mind racing with all kinds of terrible thoughts.  I arrive at the hospital, I see my oldest daughter and Birthday Girl's friends... I got in their face and yelled.... "I'M TELLING ALL YOUR MOMAS YA'LL HAVE FAKE ID'S!!!"....I went to the back and saw Birthday Girl in the bed with the nurses fussing over her.  She looks up at me and says..."Have You Come To Beat Me?".....I thought no silly child, "I'm gunna Beat you at home when nobody is watching"...I did like any mother would do, I wiped her smeared mascara and lipstick and said, "it's gunna be alright"... She then crys out to the nurses, "I need to leave, my daddy can't afford this right now, we are broke.".... Well, I couldn't argue that, but I lied and said, don't worry, insurance pays for this after we meet our $10,000 deductible...Then the nurses started poking her arm to get some blood work... They couldn't find a vein.... I kept saying to myself..... "POKE HER.... POKE HER.... POKE HER.."  Then Birthday Girl crys out to me and says, "EVERYTHING YOU'VE SAID, sniff, sniff,  ABOUT LIFE sniff, sniff IS RIGHT, snif, sniff,  I'VE SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO YOU, sniff, sniff, BETTER"....."Hmmm... There Is A God", I say to myself..... I help Birthday to the bathroom to get a urine sample, after all, she was "drugged" by "someone".... They tell Birthday Girl to be quiet they had a serious problem behind the other curtain.....My ears perk up, all I understood was..."How many piercing do you have?... It's gunna be hard to get them all out, This is gunna tear, It's gunna hurt, WOW, I've never seen this before, and Are you seeking help for this problem?...The writer in me needs pencil & paper... My sister said (after I called her the next day), "Desiree I can't believe you didn't peek through the curtain and pretend you were lost and you had the wrong room & STARE"... God she knows me so well.....After our 4 hour wait, I had dozed off holding my daughter's precious hand, while she peacefully slept.  Then the doctor walks in to tell me the results....."Your daughter had a blood alcohol level of  .009? or 1.009? or & 1.90?" ... I just said, "I don't understand what you are saying?"... "Your daughter was Drunk", he said.....I was stunned... I thought.... "NO WAY.....She doesn't Drink.".....Next day, I get the REAL STORY.... Guys in College Town saw her Birthday Sash and said, "All Birthday Girls Drink SHOTS"....She said she didn't like alcohol, but they kept saying, "But That's What ALL Birthday Girls Do, They Drink SHOTS"....I guess because she's the 3rd daughter out of 4, it's my fault because I didn't give her enought Attention.... All is well now, Birthday Girl has learned her Lesson...She doesn't drink anymore and she doens't like people that do either.....She went from The Birthday Girl to The Self Righteous Girl..... I couldn't be more Prouder!