I did not pony up so much as one thin dime in ransom money, but my parents were good enough to meet me about halfway between their house and ours yesterday for the return of my Yahoos. And yes, because my children are delightful and perfectly perfect 100% of the time, my parents did actually come to a complete stop to open the doors before running their butts out of their car. Kidding. My parents love their grandchildren, and would probably do most anything we ask to provide opportunities and/or help care for them.
Anyway, the first thing my big kid says to me, barely concealing mad 12-year-old giggles is, “Grandpa taught us a song, it’s really funny.” Having grown up with the man, I feel fairly certain the direction we’re heading is a sassy-to-borderline-inappropriate one, so I’m good (I think) with what I’m about to hear. My dad has an intelligent, dry, sometimes acerbic wit, but also still laughs his ass off at The Three Stooges, so he can mix things up a little. I sure look like my mom, but my love of words and wit descended paternally. I don’t especially appreciate the Stooges, but I can get behind low-brow and slapstick humor, because you may remember I’m no dummy, but I’m also an adolescent boy in the way of things I find funny.
My dad’s a gamer, so while standing in the rain outside a mid-state truck stop, he sings what I now know is titled (and I use titled loosely) Two Irishmen, so HEY, thanks for the help, Google! I didn’t write it and didn’t name it, so please, no haters. OK, if you have to hate, hate on me. I’m strong. See previous post. Anyway, Two (or three, depends on whose version) Irishmen goes a little something like this–an’ a-one, an’ a-two
Two Irishmen, two Irishmen were diggin’ in a ditch.
One of them called the other one, a dirty son of a —
Peter Murphy, Peter Murphy sittin’ on a rock.
Along came a bumble bee, and stung him on his —
Cocktail, ginger ale, five cents a glass,
If you don’t believe me, kiss my dirty —
Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies,
Strawberry, raspberry, —
Sellin’ lemon pies.
Yeah. Now the big kid knows it’s not quite safe for the masses, but also knows that I am borderline-to-mostly-inappropriate in the way of things I find funny. Have you ever seen this meme? Yes. Today was a crazy weather day. It rained harder than I’ve seen it rain in a year. It was the hurting kind of rain, pelting so hard you thought your coat would split wide open under its attack. My little one and I were out shopping for a strange melange of goods: baseball cleats, a Harry Potter paperback, and a refrigerator and range. For reals. Our phone had been knocked out, so prior to departing I asked the big kid to text me periodically to check in. He likes being home alone, which I appreciate, so I try to afford him alone time when it’s possible. He’s 12, and doesn’t give one bit of a damn about texting or social media rendering him anomalous among sixth graders–I’m the only one he texts. We handed down my first iPhone to him for games and just-in-case contacts alone. For safety. He doesn’t have a cell phone proper, and I gotta say that I LOVE this anomaly of his, but I also want him to “get it” as it relates to this kind of tech stuff. Anyway, Wendy, get to the point.
The point is that it’s pouring so forcefully I can barely see, roads are flooding, lightning is striking, thunder’s booming–the whole red radar eye of the storm shootin’ match was underway while my little one and I sat in the car waiting for a moment’s lapse in the storm. Big kid texts me to report having practiced piano, and moments later sends this:Sure, I ALL-CAPSed him in the first reply, but you know I was giggling like a damn fool from across town. I was dying. I was. I didn’t even text yell at him including his middle name, so how mad could I really be, right? The initial surprise wore after a moment, so I continued with the next response, all smiley face emoticon-y and stuff, and with that I doomed my MOTY nomination for the 13th year running. Actually I totally wanted to use the emoticon where’s there’s tears from laughter, but that, friends, THAT would have been a bridge too far.