So, yeah…sorry, I’ve been so quiet…I was in Federal Prison. (No, but I’m willing to bet at least half the people who know me wouldn’t be surprised.)

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And so we resume…

Me: “I still think you should consider taking up meditation. It might help you focus.”

Xavier: “I’ve tried that already, but when I tried doing it in class, it just pissed my teachers off.”

Me: *sigh*

Stockholm Syndrome…Now in Technicolor!

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Xavier: “I don’t remember this movie being so rapey.”

Liam: “Um, yeah…there are consent issues all over this thing.”

Xavier: “It’s like they think setting sexual assault to song makes it allowable.”

Liam: “Seriously, this is just a bunch of hillbillies kidnapping women they can’t have, only instead of a cargo van, they have a horses and a wagon.”

Me: “Well…so much for family movie night.”

***Seriously though…glad the consent conversations seem to be paying off.***

If You Thought Goodnight Moon Was Twisted…

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Unfortunately, there are very few readily available books on Erwin Rommel, my son’s assigned topic for 8th grade History. The “book” I ordered on Amazon came today, and it was a whopping 30 pages in large font, claiming to give his full history from birth to death.  Bullshit.  It’s being returned.

Me: “Will you look at this!?  How are they selling this as a ‘book’!?”

Xavier: “What is it?”

Me: “It’s what I bought for Liam to do his report!”

Xavier: “That’s way too small to be a book.”

Me: “It’s a pamphlet!”

Xavier: “It’s like a children’s book…but with Nazis.”

And Now THAT Song Is In My Head. Great.

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Less than 24 hours after returning from a quick romantic weekend, my dearest darling, Ryan, was felled by an intestinal flu, so he’s been concerned that he might have given it to me.

Ryan: How are you feeling? Still okay?

Me: Are you texting to check on the state of my bowels?

Ryan: Yeah, I guess I am.

Me: In the immortal words of Ashford and Simpson…still Solid As a Rock.

Ryan: I’m thinking more fiber for you.

I Wish Falcon Crest Was Still A Thing

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My sons’ Spanish teacher has apparently given up, and the curriculum now solely consists of them watching Spanish soap operas.

Xavier: “None of us understand enough Spanish, so it’s just a bunch of gibberish, and then a dog runs away, and someone has an affair.”

Liam: “Don’t forget about the ghosts.”

Xavier: “Oh, yeah…and there are ghosts.”