Archive for the ‘small town life’ Category

“Of all the animals, the boy is the most unmanageable.” (Plato)

March 19, 2009

After my son turned in his biology project he was complaining “I didn’t learn ANYTHING making that cell”

I told him, “Yes, you did, you learned that your mother loves you enough to ride your ass to get it done.”

Taylor replied, eye-rolling and sighing huffily “But I ALREADY KNEW that!

Boys. They are wonderful, mysterious creatures.

Sometimes mysterious and not so wonderful.

For example, last night we attended Taylor’s National Honor Society ceremony.   The freshmen  were called up on stage one-by-one to receive a certificate.    I had a moment of panic when I noticed his name was NOT listed on the program, but remembered that he had attended a practice session that day, so surely it was just a typo.  

They asked the parents to rise when their child’s name was called and I breathed a sigh of relief when, last alphabetically, they called out “Taylor Wood”

followed by:

Child of

Chris Wood.

Yes, just “of Chris Wood.”

It was awkward.  Chris rose.  Then sort of pulled me up.

We returned to our seats, thinking, “Gosh, they are incompetent, first leaving his name off the program, then not listing his mother.”   Until the mother sitting in front of me turned and said, “H. (her son) told me Taylor FORGOT to list his mother.”

Forgot?   Am I not the person driving him to school everyday?   Making sure his homework is done?  Picking him up from chess?  Forcing him to attend the ceremony?  (While wearing a tie, no less!) national-honors-society-2009

  FEEDING? CLOTHING? and PROVIDING SHELTER?!!!

And there is that whole “having given birth” to him business, too!  Plus breastfeeding, waking up with him EVERY NIGHT for two plus years, changing his diaper, for longer than he would care for anyone to know!  (3+ years of that, seriously!)

Today I also found out that Taylor not listing his mother was a topic of much conversation at the practice.  Other kids noticed and mentioned it to their parents (who mentioned it to me at work today).  Taylor could have easily requested a correction during the practice, but did not.

And Taylor didn’t think to mention any of this to me before the ceremony.  So I was totally blindsided. 

And left feeling bewildered and upset.

Partially from embarrassment, because I am sure the other parents in this small town are wondering WTF is up, that Taylor would choose NOT to list his mother, but mainly I’m left wondering if my child is just truly terribly thoughtless or if he really is that big of a jackelope.

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How many one armed man stories is one blog allowed to have?

March 18, 2009

Today, walking to my office from the post office, Old Guy Phil (as I call him in my head) joined me on his way to the pharmacy.
Chatting about the weather, we passed the one armed man. (Who I creatively call “the one armed man”). We exchanged salutations.
After he passed, Old Guy Phil turned to me and said “I bet his nickname isn’t ‘Lefty.”

Oh, but now it is!

Maybe she was naked, too?

November 5, 2008

I’m beginning to think my blog should just be entitled “Ways I embarrass myself and/or my children.”

Yesterday morning, stepping out of the shower, I heard the phone ring. It was 7:30 am and my husband had just left for work. Thinking he must have forgotten to tell me something, I headed toward the kitchen.

Reagan had answered the phone and called out, “Hey, mom, it’s for you!”

I responded, yelling “Okay, I’m naked, but…” and, turning a corner, ran smack into Reagan, who was holding the phone. She immediately started cracking up, because, unfortunately it wasn’t my husband, but one of the Apostolic Christian PTO members, calling to ask me to volunteer for something.

July 11, 2008

Yesterday Taylor won a stereo from the library’s summer reading program. In the five weeks of the program he had read 38 books. He should be thanking me for the technological grounding he’s had this summer, without which, he would doubtless have played many games of HALO and read few books.

On our way home we heard a shout of “Christopher!” which we ignored. Again: “Christopher!” It was our neighbor, “X,” and I realized she was talking to Taylor.

Silly me, I forgot that that’s his actual name.

I have a bit of a jaded past with “X.”

To make a short story long, last year a woman, “C,” came into our office and asked us to sign her petition to be on the ballot to run for our small town’s village board.

My boss and I signed it.

A few weeks later a long standing member of the village board, my neighbor “X,” came by to ask about our signatures. She was contesting the signed petitions of “C.”

My signature looks like a big scribble; her contention was that I only signed the last half of my hyphenated last name. I told her that was my correct signature and she handed me a piece of paper and asked me to sign it so that she could see.

Disapprovingly, she also informed that: “You are one of only eight people in the village with a hyphenated name.”

She also admonished my boss “You don’t live within the village limits, you shouldn’t have signed this!” M. said, “Well, we have village water.” “X:” “The village LET you have city water, despite being OUTSIDE the limits.”

Oh, boy.

And one time she complained to the village about the “weeds” behind our garage. Um, those “weeds” came in a packet entitled “wild flowers.”

Back to yesterday, she was calling Taylor/Christopher’s name to inform him that she won him in the football players auction at the fair and is now entitled to eight hours of his labor.

Oh, shit.

And she needs him to come and weed her garden before an open house she is hosting for “our next Congressional Representative.”

Aaron Schock.

Sorry y’all, I wasn’t trying to be cryptic.

May 6, 2008

Yesterday’s post was just an example of one of the “commonplace” conversations we have at my office that would be bizarre to others. Part of the feel of living and working in REALLY small town.

There is a one-armed man living in an “apartment” two store fronts down from my office. This greatly amuses us, as 1. One armed man! (it’s insensitive, but what is more curiousity provoking?) 2. It’s a store front, for god’s sake! What idiot turned it in to an apartment?

A couple of days ago I was leaving the office to go to the pharmacy (also on our block), hoping for a pleasant encounter with the multi-personality clerk. In the middle of the street was a medium-sized black dog with a short, gruff-voiced man calling it. “Come back, damn dog!”

The dog promptly ran the other direction.

He would stop, sniff something, mark his territory. The man would get closer, the dog would see him and run another block, stop and sniff, repeat, repeat.

Later that day I saw the dog chaser entering the one-armed man’s apartment.

Yesterday he was there again.

Hence:

“I think the short, loud guy with the black dog is moving in with the one-armed man.”

That’s all folks (for today, that is!)

May 5, 2008

I just said to my boss “I think the short, loud guy with the black dog is moving in with the one-armed man.”

They are smelly bastards

July 9, 2007

Reagan: “Mom, a guy came to school today and talked about hunting.”
Me: “What do you mean, was it about gun safety?”
Reagan: “No, it was about hunting animals. He is having a class and will teach us to hunt.”
Me: “??????”
Reagan: “Everyone signed up for it.”
Me: “What is the class going to hunt?”
Reagan: “Ferrets”

Small town life

May 2, 2007

One of the joys of small town life, other than everyone knowing your business and knowing your postmaster, grocery store clerk and librarian by first name, is our local paper. This weeks joys include:

An ad for a “1st Annual Mud Bog and Drag Racing.” I hate to admit my ignorance, but I have no clue what a “mud bog” might be, but it does sound like fun.

An FFA plant sale, with a tomato plant listing of “yellow pair.” I’m a gardening novice, but I am assuming they meant “yellow pear.” Otherwise they might be better listed on Bill’s Content with a headline of “fake tan, but they’re spectacular….”

A bar featuring Butch’s pizza AND $1 tacos. (Motto: “We Be Jammin”)

A barbershop/coffee cafe/pool hall/video arcade. It also has a great motto: “it’s a guy thing” because you know, women don’t get haircuts, drink coffee or like to do anything fun.

And my personal favorite:

NOTICE:
Am I the only one who got bad gas at one of the stations in Hanna City on April 14. Call xxx-xxxx

Too many obvious jokes for that one.