Saturday, January 28, 2012

Don't Meth with Meth

My sons are showing some pretty suspicious behavior lately.  They are not eating their dinner.  They have inordinate amounts of energy.  They have grimy fingernails.  Most disturbingly, their teeth appear to be just falling out of their heads at an alarming rate.

Someone call the cops.  They are clearly mething around with meth.

Also, I recently learned I have more than one ancestor named Rufus.  True fact.  For some reason I feel that these two things go together today.


We need to intervene before they end up needing 'flippers' like the kids on Toddlers & Tiaras, because they've already seen the show and with their clearly addictive personalities they will not want to stop at that.  Clayton's already asked me with wide eyes if I was sure if that was only for girls or if boys could do it too.

There are some questions which our children ask that we must consider our absent spouse's response before answering.  WWJD?  What would Jason Do?

Jason would poop his pants a little lot.

But lo, before I could answer, up popped a little gent in his sparkle pantsuit and gave him confirmation, and his eyes lit up.


I managed to convince him, with help of the map, that there were no pageants in our area.  That was a pretty simple fix.  Until a trip to a local store where he eyed some ballet shoes and promptly decided he wanted to be....a dancer.

Quit busting my balls, little man.

We YouTube'd The Nutcracker which I thought would entertain him but ultimately make him blow the whole thing off when he realized he would have to perform in front of people.  It seems to be the requisite for all the dance classes anyway.  He persisted.  He begged for classes, but stipulated one that he did not have to perform for anyone in a recital setting.

I totally understood this.  I too, refused to take piano lessons from teachers who held kind of was crap to do that to kids who wanted to learn without pressure.

I promised to at least look into it.  He was so pleased.  He joyfully twirled around our wood floor in his socks, telling me to put on some music, then asking if I thought his dance was pretty.

"Yeah, it's so great, I love it.  Daddy is going to be so.....excited."

Daddy wasn't very excited.  But it didn't matter.  None of the dance schools offer 'just dancing' classes without enrolling in a structured calendar based program with a recital plugged in at the end.  Luckily, both kids are at an age where they will put up a huge battle if they think you're the one making the adverse determination but will be totally accepting if they think it's out of your hands.  He was disappointed, but he understood.

Daddy was relieved, but thoroughly annoyed that I had seriously considered it.  I had, after all, refused to put forth the same effort to enroll them in wrestling or football programs.  Touche`....touche`.

I can't wait to see what exactly our kids will come up with in their lives.  Behind every great grown up man, teenager, or little boy is a mom who is terribly proud of him for who he is.  Just wait until Clayton finds out about:


He is going to be THO. THUPER. EXTHYTED.

*On a serious note, Daddy and I are/would both be equally supportive if either of these two genuinely wanted to follow through with an endeavor like this.  It's nothing really to do with the boy vs. girl argument.  It's far more to do with the time/money/actual effort investment involved vs. what they make it look like.  We just happen to live in an area where the arts aren't readily available in flexible formats.  If we had a daughter, he (and I) would be just as hesitant to push her into being a little Jon Benet.  It's creepy.  Also, they tend to change their little minds about things often, as was outlined in my 'Cowboy Up' post.  Needless to say, he's already moved on to other interests and forgotten about this.

1 comment:

  1. I don't have kids, so I can't say for sure, but ... I love 'mos so much I could see myself trying to "turn" my sons.

    "Are you SURE you don't want to come with Mommy to see another musical? It'll be FABULOUS!"

    Roomie is aware of this. And he loves the 'mos, too. But ... yeah. He doesn't quite share my enthusiasm. I'd be all up IN that ballet bidness.