“Well, yeah. She’s a girl. You think they’re all ready to go and then at the last minute they’re like ‘OH WAIT, ONE MORE THING!’ and then EVERYONE IS SCREWED.”
— Eric, reacting to the news that despite being in the correct position all pregnancy, our baby has decided, in the home stretch, to flip to breech.
“What are Spanx!?”
— 2nd grade boy, when I opened up my laptop to do a reading program with him and a HUGE photo of my latest online shopping purchase popped up.
Me: “The Roku isn’t working.”
Eric: “What’s wrong with it?”
Me: “I don’t know, but when I press the ‘TV Input’ button, it doesn’t even go to the Roku channel.”
Eric: “Ok, so…if it’s skipping over that Input channel, what would logic tell you?”
Me: <blank stare>
Eric (speaking slowly): “What might that say about the INPUT WIRE for the Roku…?”
Me: <blanker stare>
Eric: “I’ll fix it.”
Me: “Thanks babe!”
Maybe next time we skip the lesson.
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.”
Sternly asking “How would YOU feel if you had to bleed from your PENIS once a month?!?” does not win you points with the guy who just had ACL surgery.
Or, I’m now realizing, any guy.
At any time.
Lately, during my outdoor runs, I’ve been seeing a lot of these shirts:
And obviously I’m a fan, as I am a supporter of any display of racial pride that doesn’t come from a white person.
But I’m just a little confused– is there an underlying assumption here that society doesn’t already know that black girls run?
You win EVERY MARATHON and EVERY OLYMPIC TRACK EVENT. We know you run. You run very, very fast.
Regardless, this seems to be an extremely popular brand, so if it’s lucrative to create a brand stating things we all know about certain demographics, then consider this shit trademarked:
Sometimes I get the old, “I’m going to die all alone” blues. Nothing dire or overly dramatic. Really.
They usually happen on Sunday. So, like….today.
I texted a female friend with this concern, and her response:
Then a male friend:
I’m not gonna lie– the male friend snapped me out of it.