Holiday Bloglet

  • Books read since start of holiday on 23rd night: 4.
  • New mystery writers discovered since start of holiday: 3
  • Movies watched: half of 3
  • Drinks consumed: 2! (I know right?)
  • Local cuisine sampled: 2xs
  • Yelled at offspring: lesser times than I thought possible.
  • Got massaged: 1x
  • Cursed out loud: 3x
  • Songs looped in head: Never Give Up (Sia)& Wildest Moments (Jessie Ware)
  • Sighed in contentment: all the time!

Disambiguation: Need Of The Hour

My son can be a lazy lump. Anything that requires more effort than he’s prepared to put in; gets shoved under the rug (literally and figuratively) and often outsourced to us.

He’s starting to make some strides in reading now and today’s homework has words that distinguish the gender between people viz mother-father, brother-sister et al. That it doesn’t address the third gender type didn’t worry me much. He still mixes up his right and left shoe so am sure we have long walk ahead of us before we tackle that topic.

I was super happy when he wanted to add to the list by bringing in the animal kingdom. So we sat down and started writing out the animals names which have separate terms for their hes and shes. We did the usual ones..lion-lioness, tiger-tigress when my son started naming all sorts of weird “girl-animals”. In order to show him how not everything is called a girl-fox or a girl-whale I told him to look up what a female fox is called; because let’s admit it…if I say thing is white he won’t rest until half the world aka the internet has confirmed it as well.

Now comes the laziness part. He didn’t type it in but used OK Google instead.and got the answer- vixen. Yay for technology and all that jazz.

Then the lump decides to see how vixens look because he thought the girl animals will be different from boy animals (not sure if he was expecting big bows in the hair and whatnot) and told OK Google, “show me vixen” and that’s when a small child’s mouth dropped open because that particular command brought up all manner of busty, latex-clad women instead of the demure, orange-fur fox.

Thankfully he doesn’t have “boy” hormones yet and made a face and asked Google to show him the girl fox. Google apparently does have boy hormones because it showed him girl f****. And after a heated struggle between mother-child and an under-attack laptop I yelled out Jesus Christ!! GIRL FOX!  That too was a bad call because Google turned up images of Jesus Christ of Fox…whatever that means; and studly men appeared in the search.

After that it was a toss-up who was going to be airborne- my BP or the laptop; out the window. And so I counted to 20 in my native tongue and found that it didn’t help a bit. In the meanwhile a small child was wondering why his already excitable mother was looking to strangle the laptop and he started tip-toe away. I hauled him back, opened up Google and asked him to type out ‘what is a female fox called’ with his stubby little fingers and LO and BEHOLD! Eureka and all the gang appeared and there were vixens and foxes raining like manna from the heavens. There were National Geographic picture quality ones, even some Disney ones thrown in for good measure and finally I could breathe again.

Until I heard him evoke Google again saying, “show me a girl whale”. I rushed back in time to see whales AND massive thongs and butt cracks appear on the screen.

Gods of Google: Please put in a disambiguate plug-in for the sake of my sanity.

The Misery of Mucus

Reblogged from beerandcandlelight.wordpress.com 

http://wp.me/p4Thir-2I

There are two kinds of people (among the many types of two-kinds of people): those who shy away from bodily functions, fluids and whatnot and those who rush to embrace it.

I’m not sure why but farts, peeing, pooping, burping, drooling, mucus (from various parts of the body), wet dreams, menstrual flow; it’s all just stuff you file away under ‘ewws’, ‘icky-yucky’ ‘must-nots’ and either talk to your physician about or your best friend. Or you talk to your husband if you have what mine refers to as “potty comfort” aka using the toilet in front of each other without major gag reflexes coming into play or the question of the marriage surviving popping up.

But people’s’ personal preferences aside, I wanted to shine the spotlight on parents (moms in particular) and how they have to battle the insidious inside of the human body especially when it comes to their kids.

Right from the first constipation to cleaning the first vomit there is nothing more satisfying for a parent (read mother) when a badly backed up kid finally gets it out. Whether it’s through the poop chute or the nose but the sight of turd in the toilet after a tight-tummied kid has driven you crazy is like Nirvana!

The disgusting, gluggy mucus that makes your kid go from a normal pitch to a baritone is also treated with less revulsion and more of kindness when you try to coax it out of your kid’s nose with the contraption of horrors aka the nasal aspirator!

Once you open the tap and watch the snot swirl away or you flush the poop down the hatch, the kind of lightness you feel can give the Jenny Craigers and Atkin dieters a run for their money and probably win too.

It’s disgusting. It stinks. But it exists. And God help you if your kid needs something to be excavated. Better don the miner’s hat and go digging.

Unlike the Good Book says, it’s “Damnation WITH relief”.

Amen.