2 posts from September 2008

The girls have picked up on some of the political conversations going on lately. My family is die hard super right wing republican. I'm barely a democrat which makes me a flaming liberal/communist in their books. I remember the first time I realized my sister Linz and I had different political views...we had just spend about 10 minutes passionately discussing gay marriage.  It took us that long to realize we were passionate about the complete opposite thing.  Oops.  And for the record, Allie is 6 and Avery is 5.  So I've still many years in which I can warp their fragile young minds...

Scene One
Linz: Allie, we're going to Wal Mart.
Allie: But Wal Mart exploits their workers.
Linz: Um, okay. I'm calling your mom. (dials phone) Ashley, do you know what your daughter just said to me about Wal Mart?
Me: That they exploit their workers?
Linz: Does she even know what that means?
Me: Ask her!
Linz: What does that mean, Allie?
Allie: It means that they don't want to give their workers insurance and they can't go to the doctor.
Me: See how fun brainwashing can be?
Allie: And also, they make everything in China.
Linz: You need a hobby...

Scene Two (overheard discussion between the girls)
Allie: Grandma says we have to vote for the old guy.
Avery: But mom likes No Rock Oh Momma.
Allie: No she likes Hillary Clinton, but we have to pick between the old guy and No Rock.
Avery: No Rock then.
Allie: But Grandma and Lindsay say that No Rock lets women kill their babies in their tummies.
Avery: Only if the baby tries to kill them first.

Scene Three
Allie: Look Mom! Grandma got us a new Webkinz!
Grandma: And a pin from the Republican party too!
Me: So the bear is a republican?
Allie: I want to play Webkinz!
Me: Okay honey. But what are you going to name the bear?
Grandma: How 'bout Freedom Bear?
Me: Or maybe Doomed Economy Bear?
Linz: Your mom would rather name it Gay Marriage Bear.
Grandma: Or Baby Killer Bear.
Me: Your other relatives want to name it Legislating Morality Bear.
Allie: Um.... how 'bout "Fuzzy"?

I'm trying to quietly watch TV upstairs in the living room.  Ron is a very light sleeper and I don't want to wake him.   I worry though that I overestimate my stealth capabilities. I remember summer nights in high school when I would stay up late reading.  We had a one story, three bedroom house and the kitchen was on the side closest to my parents' room.  I would plot my midnight snacks very carefully -- breaking the seal on the fridge door by sliding my finger along it in order to avoid the sucking nose made by ripping the door open.  I contemplated my future career as a cat burglar while I tiptoed chips and salsa into the dining room.  I retrieved one ice cube at a time from the freezer, whisked them away to the bathroom where I delicately placed them in my glass before filling it with water from the faucet.  Plotting my "book munchies" was almost as enjoyable as the reading that came after that. 

Not much is on TV, of course.  Infomercials and Golden Girls reruns.  The Weather Channel will make me worry about the impending arrival of Ike.  A&E's Intervention used to be a guilty pleasure, but now it just makes me sad.  Linz told me about an episode she watched recently, that left her emotionally raw.  The man was an alcoholic guitarist and his family didn't want him to drink his life away.  His 12-year-old daughter was particularly persuasive and when he saw her pleading for her daddy, he relented and successfully completed rehab.  A little close to home for a girl who lost her alcoholic guitarist father to alcoholism when she was 12.  When I see that show on the channel guide now, it brings me a photographic still from the day we learned our dad died -- the moment I realized the worst part of his death was the pain it would cause my little sister.

Sometimes I play out unlikely scenarios in my head.  I play out likely ones too, just to practice what I would say, but the unlikely ones are more fun.  I often wonder what kind of relationship I would have with my father as an adult.  I imagine conversations we would have about music especially.  When watching the VMA's last night, I thought of my dad when Kid Rock performed his single that samples heavily from "Sweet Home Alabama."  In my mind, I called him to tell him to turn on MTV so he could witness the homage to southern rock.  I imagined him conceding that maybe my generation wasn't completely bankrupt artistically and at least we could appreciate a classic.  Then Lil' Wayne came out to perform with Kid Rock, and I imagined him immediately retracting everything he just said.  Because although my dad was cool, I don't think he would ever be down with rap music.  We shared a joke and a laugh in my head as I pointed out what an old man he really was to not relate to what the kids are listening to these days.  In reality, in 8 years I will have outlived him.

I think I can sleep now.