Herstory Lesson

Originally posted August 23, 2018:

School is back in session and I couldn’t be happier and more annoyed at the same time. Talk about a dichotomy… almost bipolar.

Hell no I’m not bipolar! There’s nothing wrong with being bipolar. It reminds me of the two-toned popsicles you used to get from the ice cream truck. I happen to be a vanilla ice cream cone, thank God. They say some of the most interesting people are bipolar and are considered borderline genius. I mean, I don’t know if that statement is actually true, I’m just using it to emphasize my point, or whatever. My point being, it’s perfectly okay to be a two-toned popsicle… just as long as you don’t mix them with vanilla ice cream cones. 

It’s all about balance and compassion. Probably not balance. I mean, let’s face it, there’s nothing balanced about two-toned popsicles, but it’s definitely about compassion, which I practice daily.

I don’t have any stinkin’ kids (thank God) so you’re probably wondering how I know school started. Well, for two reasons. One is that all the stores, parks and ice cream shops are quiet and peaceful again, and two, my route to and from work is now packed with the idiots who insist on driving their goddamn ice cream cones to and from school rather than making them take the bus or walk!

These parents are cramming the roads with their Audi crossovers, making the time it takes for me to drive to work, twice as long. I barely have time to finish picking blueberry oatmeal out of my teeth before I have to rush out the door so I can navigate the extra traffic.

That’s how I know.

I’m not the type to regale people with stories of how I got to school when I was younger. I mean, how boring right? 

…

…

Well aren’t you gonna ask? For your information, I either walked or rode the bus!

That’s because my family was normal, okay?… well… except for my dad, who, looking back, reminded me a lot of a popsicle. But everyone else was normal… well, my mom had her little idiosyncrasies but uh… I wouldn’t necessarily call her a popsicle… she was more like a momsicle.

hahahaha *snort*.… hahaha *snicker *snort… haha… ha…

ahem.

Anyway, lemme just say that you shouldn’t drive your kids to and from school because they’ll miss out on a fun learning experience. Kids need to get exposure, to learn to toughen up a little bit, ya know? Let ‘em get tripped or shamed on the bus. It’s a wonderful introduction to how life’s gonna be once they have a job, or get married.

Personally, I used to have the best time taking the bus to school. It was the better part of the entire school experience, frankly. The bus stop was right down the street from my house and my friends and I would meet there and socialize before we were carted off in a dangerously balanced long yellow vehicle with an agitated driver who didn’t necessarily like kids. Anyway after we boarded, we’d make our way all the way to the back because that’s where the long bench seat was located… you know the one I’m talking about, right?

You don’t? Well you would Harry Potter if you weren’t being chartered to school like a frickin’ wizard!

There’s a long bench seat at the very back of the bus, for your information. Anyway, we liked to sit there because along the route to school we’d cross a big giant dip in the road, and as the back end of the bus was coming out of the dip, it would bounce up really high, so we’d launch ourselves off the seat simultaneously with the bus coming out of the dip on the upswing, which would propel us really high into the air. It was so much fun! We’d even have a contest to see who could go up the highest, and everyone on the bus would watch in awe because, well we were pretty awesome.

You can’t do stuff like that in your mommy’s car Harry! How the hell are you supposed to learn shit about physics if you’re strapped into an Audi looking cross-eyes at the screen of your iPhone?

Kids need to toughen up a little bit, stop being so protective. Let Harry walk to school and burn off some of that McDonalds crap you’re feeding him. Don’t tell me you’d rather have him be bullied on the schoolyard because he’s got moobs over walking.

Luckily I love kids, they’re wonderful! Every time I come into contact with one, they leave the encounter knowing something they didn’t before. Let me give you an example: I was in the drug store the other day buying stuff I didn’t need so I could get one of their ridiculously long receipts to use as toilet paper for the week, when I noticed this adorable little six year old girl running down the aisle tightly clutching a Barbie Doll.

Clearly, she was looking for her mom, who’d left her alone in the toy aisle so she could continue shopping undisturbed, which I think is another great way to toughen up a kid! Leave ’em alone for a long period of time and when they get panicked and start crying, they’ll be forced to get resourceful and strategize; it builds character. 

Anyway, I knew this little girl was looking for her mommy so she could beg her to buy the Barbie doll. What little girl isn’t infatuated with Barbie? So I approached her, got down to her eye level, and said “Little girl, I know you really want that Barbie doll right now, but in ten years, you’re gonna hate her because she’s skinnier than you and has bigger tits. Barbie represents a standard of beauty you’ll never achieve. Now put the doll back and let’s go look for your mommy.” 

We got into a little back and forth and… well, I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a tug of war with a six year old before, but they’re a lot stronger than they look. I finally managed to wrestle the doll away from her and ran out of the store with it. The manager came running after me but I lost him ’cause I was too fast for him. Probably from all that walking to and from school!

I gave that little girl some real food for thought, you know what I mean? I was proud to be such a good example.