Friday, May 1, 2009

I'm an ogre!!!



I know I am the only parent that won't allow my kids to wear pajamas, slippers, bathrobes, sweats, dirty clothes, ripped jeans, or the like to school. I have come to accept the fact that I am medieval in my thinking, certainly not "up with the times", and archaic. I am backwards in that my children have to be dressed to go to school, their pants have to stay at their waistlines, their shirts must have sleeves and have to amply cover their belt loops, there must be enough material in their shirts (whether it is thickness or amount) to wipe up a 1/2 cup of spilled water, shoes need to be tied, hair has to be combed and I need to see their eyes, not to mention their clothes are boring because they are clean and the graphics "are for babies."

My boys are being stifled because their hair is above their ears and off their collars, aren't allowed to have tattoos (even fake ones), or piercings. My girls live in a convent because they can't wear makeup at 12, have to wait to pierce their ears, lingerie (and we all know what I mean) is not appropriate over clothes or under for that matter, and it isn't cute to wear shirts that show the color of their bra or low-rider pants that have turned all the girls into plumbers.

Yes, I am of the monster clan. They can't play video games rated higher than "E", they can't watch TV rated higher than "G", they have to have a language filter on all their movies, they don't have all the latest hand-held gadgets, and alas we are in the dark ages because they don't have a TV in their room and the computer is password protected.

But, I wear my "ogre-ness" with pride. I had ogres as parents and I think I turned out okay. So, here is a cheer to all of us ogres out there. May we live long, polish our horns, sharpen our claws, oil our muscles, and raise the meanest monsters we can!!!!

Demons out!!!





Gremlins came to visit and reeked havoc on my piano. A couple of weeks ago I was playing and two keys in the middle of the piano were sticking together and playing at the same time. An irritation, but livable. If you pounded hard enough, they would un-stick for a couple of measures and you could keep playing.

Yesterday, I sat down those two keys weren't sticking anymore, but further up the piano about five were. What in the world? I thought I was going crazy.

The piano tuner came today and my gremlins have been discovered. Bless my pointed, little children's hearts. They were shoving pencils down into the mechanisms. Major sighs of relief. Now I have to think of REAL good punishment -- 50 lashes with a wet noodle.