Referring to a classroom activity…
Ok, so. NOT something boys grow out of.
Questions That Aren’t Questions
My friend and I were going to go out downtown tonight. But it’s raining.
I’ll Never Tell
“Where are they? WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE. ARE. THEY?! Answer me. WHERE ARE THEY? Are you going to answer me? WHERE ARE THEY?!?!?!”
— Eric, upon realizing that he hasn’t seen his bandanas in awhile.
“Like…fucking…IMMEDIATELY.”
For the past year, Jeremy has been asking me to post the following voicemail from Zack, because it is absurd.
I personally agree that it’s hilarious, but I felt it was funny only if you actually know Zack, (and all his “Zack-isms”), and know Jeremy (and all his “What-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you-isms.”) Bottom line– I’m not sure it’s entertaining if you don’t know our family.
“Dude. You could say that about literally 100% of your posts about us,” Jeremy replied.
Ok yeah.
So here you go.
A few things to know before listening:
- Zack called Jeremy and left this voicemail after coming home to Potomac, getting into Jeremy’s (constantly filled with endless amounts of crap) car and finding several overdue parking tickets. This was at the time when Jeremy was living in the basement. So let’s just say the family was on high “will-this-kid-ever-get-his-shit-together?!” alert. Jeremy has since moved out of the basement, so the answer to that question is “sort of.”
- I am not endorsing or condoning the word “retard.” I wish Zack had chosen any other greeting. That being said, this is the only time I’ve heard the term used and thought “Yeah. That works.” But if you’re offended, try replacing it with “asshat,” or “douchecanoe.”
- Zack is the younger brother (and youngest in the family). Keep that in mind as you listen. It makes his “lecture” subtly more hilarious.
- Chelsey was Jeremy’s girlfriend at the time. She was phenomenal, and my whole family loved her (that has nothing to do with the voicemail, I just fucking miss her.)
- Hang in there ’til the end. The casual, happy-to-help closing is gold.
Enjoy.
Things I Thought Were Un-Ruinable
Welp. He did it.
He ruined Cinco De Mayo.
And taco salad.
Cool Story, Hansel
Later….
Transpondster
“Trump said ‘bigly.’ That doesn’t even make sense. How can he be president if he doesn’t make sense?” — 4th grader
Kid, I ask myself that every damn day.
Ok. I get it.
Kid (pointing to the messy bun piled on top of my head): “My mom wears her hair like that when she does laundry.”
Me: “Oh, perfect.”
Kid: “Or, like, if she’s staying in the house all day.”
Me: “Uh huh…”
Kid: “Really if she’s doing anything where other people won’t see her.”
I Don’t Know How to Do the Thing You’re Saying
Partly inspired by a scale that told him he gained 9 pounds in the past week, and partly due to my constant complaints of feeling fat, Eric convinced me to try a “Paleo Restart” 30-day program with him.
Even though he discovered this morning that the scale was wrong (um, obviously. 9 pounds in one week? #science), and despite the fact that I didn’t actually want to DO anything about feeling fat, I just wanted him to respond “That’s crazy, you’re not fat! It’s fine to eat that 9th Hershey Nugget!” (um, obviously. #science) he’s still super into the program. Plus, we already paid the $35 for it. So fine.
I went to sleep last night totally on board to start this weekend, but then this morning had a horrifying realization.
Oh, yeah. Why didn’t I think of that?
PROBABLY BECAUSE I DON’T KNOW HOW TO MAKE EGG SALAD, MUCH LESS MAKE THE FUCKING MAYO FOR EGG SALAD.
No.
I’m out.
Today, Junior
During a whole-group lesson about personification, writing a poem with the kids.
Us: “How can we personify the sound leaves make in the breeze?”
Kid (raises hand): <makes loud breathing noise>
Us: “Ok, but how might we say that in words?”
Kid: <makes breathing sound again>
Us: “Ok, but we are writing a poem, so we need WORDS.”
Kid: “Ok, hold on.”
Us: “WORDS.”
(Long Pause. Entire class waits.)
Kid: <makes breathing noise again>
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