Perimenopausal Maturity

So my friend, Mrs. Pirate, was in a meeting.  I knew she was there, so I decided to send her a text to make her laugh inappropriately.  

Me:  I think I may be becoming possessed. 

Me:  I just farted and it smelled like sulfur.

Me:  Like a match striking.  

Me: Not like an egg.  


An hour later…

Mrs. Pirate:  I love that you send these to me when I am in a meeting. 

Me: Was it a fun meeting?

Mrs. Pirate: Asshole.

Me:  You love me. 

Mrs. Pirate:  And you me.  That is why I can call you an asshole. 

Mrs. Pirate:  Actually, not too shabby. 

Me:  Did you sing songs and make crafts? 

Mrs. Pirate:  We sang campfire songs and made God's eyes. 

Me:  Hahahahahaha!  I just peed!

Mrs. Pirate: Oh good.  My work is worthy.  

Me:  Like these?  

Me:  EYE OF HORUS!

Mrs. Pirate: BY THE GREAT RED EYE OF HORUS!  ala Ron Burgundy!  

Me:  Everything ends up being about Ron Burgundy or boobs or vaginas.  

Mrs. Pirate:  Or Ballz.  Or Sacs.  Or Cock.  

Me:  Oh!  How could I forget about the scroat or the cock?  I am falling down on my job.  

Mrs. Pirate:  We are super mature. 

Me:  This kind of humor takes time to develop.  It's very mature. 

Mrs. Pirate:  Aged, really. 

Me: Like a fine fucking wine.  DRINK IN OUR HUMOR BITCHES!  

Mrs. Pirate:  Suck it down. 

Mrs. Pirate:  Ok, dirty.  

Me:  Indeed.  I gave it a full-throated chortle.  Also dirty.  

Mrs. Pirate:  We should get paid for this.  

Me:  We really should. Comedic Super Geniuses!  

Parenting Magazine Should Totally Call me!

Conversation I had the other day:


J: The principal called me today.  The kid refused to change his seat when the bus driver told him.

Me: Did he do it with flourish?  Like, "I WILL NOT CHANGE MY SEAT!  THIS IS AMERICA! WHERE IN THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE DOES IT SAY WE HAVE TO CHANGE OUR SEATS?"

J: No.  He said "Why do I have to change seats?  Why doesn't (the other kid)?"

Me: Of course he did.  He gave the same asshole answer you would have given.  You are a horrible American.  What kind of asshole America-hating kid are you raising?

J:  I know. You and Mr. Misha should totally get yourselves a kid.

Me:  Yeah, I'll just pick one up. They just have 'em laying around all over the place nowadays.

J:  I'm not going to tell his dad.  He'll overreact.  I'm going to tell the kid, "I'm not telling dad, but if you piss me off…"

Me:  No, you should dress up in rollers, a flannel nightie and slippers.  Then tell him, "If you get in trouble with the bus driver again, I'm going to drive you to school dressed like this.  Then I'm going to walk you to your classroom door, kiss you on the lips and yell I LOVE YOU SON really loud, every day."

J:  You really need a kid.

LATER, via text

J: Do you think I'm enabling my kid if I say to him "Yeah, mommy knows the bus driver is an asshole"?

Me:  No.  But you should add, "But a lot of people in power are assholes and you have to learn how to get along with them".

J:  His last bus driver was great.  She loved the kids, but didn't take any shit from them.  They behaved for her.  This guy hates kids, hates his job.

Me: Also add, "That is why you need to behave in school, so you can get a good job and not end up as a bitter, asshole bus driver".

Me:  I'm probably not the best person to give parenting advice.

J: I am laughing my ass off right now.

People Pleaser

Last night, in preparation of my 12hr shift in Lochialand, I stopped by my local coffee joint to get a fix. The one goofy, and terribly slow, dude was working along with a couple of young girls.  A woman, in her mid-thirties was in front of me in line.  She was having a hard time ordering her Chai Tea Latte.  Goofy boy was making it even more difficult and confusing for her.  She finally ordered, payed and moved to the end of the bar waiting for her beverage.  I quickly placed my order and joined her.  Sitting at the end of the bar, was a lovely, cheerful, 18yr old lady.  She was chatty, pleasant and personable.  The 30-something woman just stared at her, then grabbed her drink and walked away. "Did I say something to offend her"? asked the girl. "No. Don't worry about it.  I think that is just her face". I replied. "I think I did,  She gave me a look". "No, really.  That is just how her face is." The 18yr old brushed it off and started chatting and another Barrista came up to me and said, "Do you live in St. Helena'? "No, but I was at their football game Friday." "Do you know SAGE?" "Yes he is my friend's son". "I knew it was you and Mr. Misha!  I could not believe you were all the way up valley and making so much noise'! "Well, Sage is kind of worth it". "He sure is"! Just then I see the other Barrista making a coffee.  I turn to the chatty 18 year old through  squinted eyes and said, "Is she making your coffee before mine?  I've got to go to work"! She replied, "NO!  NO!  THAT IS YOURS! I'M SORRY"! I chuckled and said, "I'm just busting yer balls.  She replies, "Don't do that to me, I'm a people pleaser!" I said, "You need to stop that.  I'm going to tell you right now something it took me decades to learn.  You cannot please all the people.  Most of the people are assholes.  When you are on you death bed, you will not think, gosh, I wish I would have pleased more people.  Be nice.  Be polite.  Do kind things.  But be nice to yourself.  Don't put your self-esteem, self-respect, self-worth in front of pleasing someone else.  You will never succeed and will be unhappy.  Don't be a dick, but don't be a people pleaser.  Now give me a terrorist fist bump'!  And she did!  And everyone in the shop yelled 'AMEN, SISTER!" And then I went to work.