Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Real boobs and cat matter

Crazy Train (of thought)

Even dogs take advantage of differences in parenting style. When I take Princess out in the morning, she does her business in the same 3-square feet everyday. Apparently when Jill takes her out, she goes wherever she wishes. I believe this because while doing my first tour of duty Spring cleaning the yard this weekend, I found doggy-dung in five restricted areas. As you can tell, I am the parent who sets the limits.

As I’ve read back over my earlier posts, I’ve become alarmed that so many include a reference to poop.

Meagan told me a story on the home from school about how she stepped into a pile of fresh cat poop and slid across her bathroom floor. I’ll spare you the details.

Marital Bliss

A conversation I overheard between Jill and a neighbor:

“Are those real?” our Neighbor asked.
“Yes, these are mine,” Jill answered, pushing her cleavage forward.
“What size are they?”
Jill politely answered, revealing her impressive dimensions (Let’s just say she will never drown).
“Good God,” the Neighbor said, “I paid six grand to get a pair of those!”

Kid-bytes

It only took four days for Meagan to girlify her new car. I got in it yesterday for her parallel parking practice and noticed the following: pink visor mounted CD case, pink credit card wallet for prepaid gas cards, pink flip-flop shaped air freshener hanging from the mirror, trunk organizers neatly organized, door pocket organizers complete with alphabetized Mapquest directions to her friends houses, and more. Now that she has it all decorated, I hope she doesn’t forget again to come to a complete stop before she shoves it into park. Ouch!

Today’s Rant

Ex-Atlanta Mayor Bill Campbell was found not guilty of racketeering and corruption charges. Now he is going around town boosting he was “proven innocent.” Sorry Mr. Bill, just because you got off for raping the city doesn’t mean you are a virgin again. You weren’t “proven innocent,” you were not found guilty due to juror error, as we all well know since their interviews with the press immediately after your verdict.

Book Report

While getting the tour of the newly decorated Meag-mobile, I noticed the glove box was short a map. I told her I would get her a city and county map today. It made me think of my newest book, “Life Maps: Simple Directions for Finding Your Way.” It uses driving lessons as a metaphor for teaching life lessons. Here’s an excerpt:

I know I have to let my child go. I cannot keep her under my wing, not that she would she let me. Yet I asked myself, how do I let my daughter go before I am certain she is ready for what she will face? I thought of Meagan’s fear of becoming lost and my own fear of her losing her way. I suddenly wanted to write down some directions for driving, even for living, and stuff them into the folds of the maps in the glove box. I smiled as I imagined her pulling off the road one day to refer to a map, unfolding it and my hand-scribbled notes falling into her lap. “Don’t drive too fast,” “Follow at a safe distance,” “Keep a diary,” “Laugh often,” and “Come home now and then,” they would say.

Life Maps has turned out to be my favorite book thus far. Please go out and buy one. I may be replacing Meagan’s transmission soon.

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