Wednesday, May 23, 2012

speaking of douche bags...

I can't not tell this story...

Several years ago I was kind of, sort of dating this guy... let's call him "Mike".
Alicia, my mom, and I were in my parents' kitchen and I was talking about him for some reason. The conversation went something like this.

Alicia: "Mike is a douche bag."
Me: "He is not! He's just misunderstood and sometimes acts like a douche bag as a coping mechanism for his insecurities. He is a really good person inside. Plus he buys me dinner occasionally and I like kissing him on the mouth." -- Okay, everything but the first three words were probably just in my head.
Mom: "Don't use that word.
     (Dad walks in.)
"That's such a disgusting word. You need to speak like ladies or you'll never get married and make me grand kids and finally make me proud." --Or something like that.
Dad: "What word?"
Alicia/Me: "Douche bag."
Dad: "Hmm..." Begins dancing with pointer fingers extended, both arms outstretched and alternating up and down, face up in Mom's grill. "DOUCHE BAG! DOUCHE BAG! DOUCHE BAG!"

It's so characteristic of my dad to do something so uncharacteristic for shock value.

Some days later, either Alicia or I was telling the story to some friends of ours.  Half way through the telling, she/I realized that Mike was in the room... so she/I changed the name and pretended the story was about someone else, leaving the climactic "DOUCHE BAG!" dance sequence in, of course.  The "douche bag dance" was a hit hinging on phenomenon, as many of our friends adopted it into their everyday routines.

The story came full circle when I was hanging out with Mike one day.  One of us called someone a douche  (I totally overused and continue to overuse that word) and  Mike did the douche bag dance.  The dance he didn't even know was about him.  The best part is that while I was laughing at the utterly glorious irony,  he kept doing it, assuming he was being funny.

Well,
the story has now been immortalized.  Kind of.

I made the mistake of telling the douche bag dance story to my fourth period.  I can't remember why.  (I do/say crap like that all the time that only proves my immaturity.) But when one of my students was asked by a yearbook staffer what "the craziest thing her teachers have said" was, she relayed the douche bag dance story.  And they put in the yearbook.

Luckily, it was edited to read "stupid head dance" or something like that.  But it's still awesome. Embarrassing for me, but awesome.  My only hope is that Mike sees it somehow and still doesn't realize it's about him.

p.s. "Mike" really was a douche bag. I think I finally recognized it during his rendition of the dance.

DB

You are a douche bag and your son is a moron.
That's what I wanted to say.
That's what I wanted to say when an irrationally irate parent left me a nasty message and sent me a nasty email this morning over something ridiculously trivial.
What I really said was something like, "Thanks for being actively involved in your child's education."
I hate being polite.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

weekend getaway

I'm a little embarrassed at my candor turned pity party I threw myself this week.  I'm still a little emotional about it all (I swear I'm not pregnant!) and I'm still not sure what decision Brad and I will make, but I'm glad I have such a supportive husband, family, and friends who let me be myself and trust me to make my own decisions. It's also so helpful to know that I'm not alone in my struggle.  People have come out of the woodwork to offer support and help watching my kids, and that means more to me than you will ever know.  Thank you!!


On a lighter note...

We spent a couple days last weekend up at the Wilsons' family cabin up in Scofield.  It was pretty cold but we managed to have fun both inside and out with the Bradfords, Jenkinses, Kyle Wilson, and Tahsha Ford.  Oh, and TEN kids -- please, everybody, it's time to stop reproducing :)

Anyway, we spent some time taking in the scenery from the deck Friday night before everybody got there. I just noticed that you can see my reflection in the window... creepy.

          
Kaiya and Delaney                        
 Liberty and Leah
Jen is a genius and gathered the rowdy kids to play musical chairs... I mean musical acoustic guitar hotpads... on Friday night.
 Kaiya took it pretty seriously.
 Here's Boston, Ben, Kaiya, and Delaney Saturday morning.
After breakfast, Riley, Ben, and Casey went for a walk.  I love how big Ben thinks he is hanging out with the big boys.
 Boston and Hank quickly joined in their "exploring".
 At one point I lost Ben and found him trying to lie down in the wood pile.
Saturday afternoon we attempted to take the kids fishing.  Most of them didn't last too long.  This is Liberty, Sam, Jen, Boston, and Clint.
 See how happy Kaiya and Delaney are?? Tahsha and Kyle are good sports.
 Kaiya insisted on holding the fishing pole at least once before we left.  About thirty seconds later Joe helped her reel in a fish.  Perfect timing.  How cute is her face!?
 I love how much Ben looks like his daddy. 

I guess I didn't take any pictures of Greta and Joe.  Whoops. 

As much as I love vacationing with ten kids -- really, I do -- I seriously can't wait for our adults only trip planned for June!! I'm starting to forget what it's like to sleep in.