conversations.
in Funny Stuff, Thoughts and Feelings
as badminton, coed, day, divorce, Don, getting a divorce, girl, married couple, Miss Jessica, resident expert, South Korea, time max
Life is sad and it is beautiful and it is strange and it is normal.
This week I am teaching a dance and theater camp and working exclusively with six to nine year olds. They are adorable with their recently acquired grown-up teeth that have not yet quite settled and so still seem too big for their little mouths. And man do they get tired. But their dances are not even that hard! I know cause I am the one choreographing them. I mean, I am making them use some pretty sweet little benches as props and they do have to carry them around like all day every day (read: for about 15 seconds at a time, max!), but don’t worry. Cause these benches are tiny. And very light. And these kids are just fine, though very good at pretending to be “so tired, Miss Jessica!”
And it’s amazing how they have not learned to keep secrets. They’ve barely learned to be embarrassed. We were rehearsing yesterday; they were all piled on those little white benches, when one little girl just announced to the world that her parents are getting a divorce.
At which point another girl asked what a divorce is.
Silence.
Being the resident expert, I stepped in and explained that it’s when a married couple decides not to be a couple anymore. I tried to act nonchalant about it, for the sake of the girl whose parents had just decided this. It’s not a nonchalant thing, not at all, but on my watch, I didn’t mind if this girl has a little more time innocently believing that maybe it is.
And then the girl said that it’s pretty cool, though, because her mom’s gonna have another baby. Oh great! I said. Oh shoot! I thought. How sad. And then the girl said that her parents’ couldn’t afford two houses, with this new baby coming and all, so they all still lived in one house and I said, Oh, well that’s something! And I thought about how weird that would be.
Divorcing somebody doesn’t really mean that you wouldn’t mind still living with that person. I mean it’s a pretty strong statement. About the strongest one you could make in terms of setting boundaries. And you don’t usually make that kind of statement to another person and then don’t mind them seeing you in just your towel as you flit from the bathroom to the bedroom.
Another little girl finally asked when these parents are getting this divorce. But with her little-girl accent, it sounded more like divoice. And so, with a little bit of laughter, the girl corrected her, saying, It’s divorce, not divoice! And it already happened!
And that was that.
And I thought it was sad but look, another sad thing that is just somebody’s new normal. That happens a lot in this world, I guess.
Oh, and now I have to share with you a wonderful and vast mistake I made the other day. I was at a party. A party full of church-goers and I know what you’re thinking: WILD. And I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable or anything, but well, badminton did happen. And not just once, either.
Anyway.
A friend of mine was asking me if I wanted to go on a midnight swim in a creek. I said sure because duh! who doesn’t? But then it quickly escalated to talks of skinny dipping and does this really shock you? I already mentioned the badminton! And I didn’t want to admit this, but all of this conversation was taking place while I was actually in the act of playing badminton. So I was talking quite loudly, being on the other side of the court and all.
And that’s when I mentioned that I had never actually been skinny dipping. Oh, but I remembered something so I had to amend it by saying, Well, okay. So I’ve done some organized skinny dipping, I guess.
Huh? Was basically the general response to that, so I went on to explain that while I was in South Korea and Japan, I visited the public baths there and yes, everyone bathes completely naked.
But then I tried to put all fears and judgy feelings to rest by loudly proclaiming, But don’t worry–it was COMPLETELY coed.
And then there was a pause while nobody said a word and I thought to myself that I was glad I explained it so as to leave no room for misunderstanding.
But then I remembered something about the word coed actually meaning well, COED. LIKE GUYS AND GIRLS TOGETHER. Ohhhhhh. So I was like, wait! Does coed mean both sexes? Cause I meant it was NOT coed. I might have been confusing by saying the exact opposite of what I meant, you know.
And then everyone started cracking up laughing and we even took a tiny break from badminton (I wish I could say that it was at that point that we finally stopped that dismal behavior, but alas, we continued for quite some time). We kept quoting Don’t worry guys, it was COMPLETELY coed! to each other because how dumb! And how opposite of what I meant!
And how very glad I am that I explained myself after explaining myself.
rapping and the milk fairy. but not rapping about the milk fairy.
in Funny Stuff, Loved Ones, Thoughts and Feelings
as A. So, Appleton Road, carton of milk, cereal milk, Chick-Fil-, Claus, day, fairy, getting a divorce, kind, milk, morning cereal, rap
Oh my gosh, I wrote a song that’s kind of like a rap.
And yes, my goodness YES, you can laugh.
But okay, now that was enough laughing.
I haven’t played it for anyone yet, but wow, I have a good time playing it for myself. I was driving in the car and thinking about how much I hate to feel used and it just sort of happened.
You know, rap happens.
And if you ever doubted that there were certain things you could do in your life, maybe you should think about me and how not only did I just write a rap, I’m also getting a divorce, and those are two things I never thought I’d attach to my name.
So yeah, you can do it. Whatever it is, you can do it.
I know, I should totally be a motivational speaker.
And now onto something a little more magical. A little more lovely. A little more winged.
In theory, at least.
I’m talking about my pop, the guy I affectionately refer to around here as the Milk Fairy. Because, I don’t know how he does it, but we never run out of milk. Ever. Seriously, it will be 2am and I will notice that the carton has maybe two inches of milk left, which is certainly low for the morning cereal rush.
But without fail, there is always a brand new carton of milk in the morning and all of us get to start the day with a belly full of milk. Even the cats, since they usually get to drink the last of our cereal milk.
In addition to the butter that they lick, of course.
But the Milk Fairy. He’s real, and he lives on Appleton Road and I don’t mind reaping the benefits of living with him one bit.
I wonder if we should attach some kind of holiday to this Milk Fairy. Kind of like how Christmas is big business for Santa Claus and he gets all that nice PR between Thanksgiving and December 25th. I wonder if, like Santa, the Milk Fairy would be able to make good and sure that once a year, every kitchen was stocked with milk before the first one rises in the home? You know, for just one day. Santa does it. Or something like it, anyway. Can’t be too hard, right?
But Milk Day just doesn’t sound so interesting. Not unless you’re a cow and you’d sort of like to lose all that water (milk) weight anyway; you’d like to fit into your size 6 dress for that next photo shoot for Chick-Fil-A. So I guess that’s supposing you’re a cow model. Ooh, fancy. What a life.
But instead of Milk Day, cause yawn, how about Las Leche?
That’s kind of sexy.
Oops, my friend just told me that he didn’t think people should use that word cavalierly. But what about if I use it to describe the holiday ascribed to the Milk Fairy? Is that less inappropriate? Which is my awkward way of asking if it’s appropriate.
I’m gonna say sure. Cause it’s late and I visited my cats tonight who are no longer my cats and that’s a bitter little pill to swallow so heck, I’m gonna say that my title for a holiday that I just made up is sexy.
Okay?
Okay.
