Ah, football season is upon us. It is only pre-season, but hello! For hardcore football fans, that COUNTS. Thank god for a household with two televisions.
Actually, I don't mind. For some reason, I associate cozy family situations with football on a snowy Sunday afternoon - perhaps, because my own family NEVER watched football? As a singleton, I dreamed of marrying a football fan and spending Sundays reading a book while my husband and kids cheered teams on. And now, I get to do that. Every fall and winter. For the rest of my life.
Be careful of what you wish for, Grasshopper.
The other night, I was half dressed and I heard X call for me. It was a Come Here NOW call. The kind of call that propels you to scurry down the stairs half-naked even through your blinds are not drawn. The kind of call that fills your heart with a teeny bit of terror as you imagine some serious injury or fire. Nope. It was not to be that particular night. It was a MOUSE. Our kitty Pearson had dragged in the sweetest, furriest little thing that wasn't even as big as my thumb. X held Pearson while I scooped up that cute little mouse and deposited him outside. Oh, I wish Arun would have been up - that would have been the highlight of his evening. And yes, that is the sort of house we live in where I am the one to rid it of varmints and the like.
I keep telling you all the tools in the garage are mine, but you will not believe me. Hopefully, my girl will be a knitter but also will be able to operate power tools. And hopefully, also my boy, so all will not be lost. Gender bend that.
I have been resisting a full-on rant for a long, LONG time about this and even now, I'll try to resist because I do not have anything profound to add to this classic argument. I am really weary of the "boys are stinkers, girls are angels" bullshit being bandied about. Friends. Family. Random strangers. Not all boys are mud grubbing, tree climbing little terrors. We get pissed at the stereotyping of our girls and yank Barbies out of their hands, but we do not mind placing labels on our boys. Is Arun a stinker sometimes? Of course. I suspect that Anjali will be, also.
While I am at it, I might as well add this - do not call my son a "naughty boy" or a "bad boy" and then refer to his sister as a "good baby" or a "good girl". His actions may be naughty, but he isn't naughty. I think this may be a generational thing - it seems the older folks are the ones to place an adjective to the person, rather than to the action. And no, this is not New Age hocus pocus. I firmly believe if you consistently call someone Naughty or Bad, they will begin to believe it.
More Simian Snaps - Two For the Price of One!
Pink is my signature color
The hair is REALLY curly the day I wash it, then gets flat the next. Channeling Don Ameche be damned. Me LOVES her hair. Squee!!
He looks like a streaker.