I have been tagged by an utter stranger via a hit and run comment on yesterday’s post. I am (pretty) (much) sure this person doesn’t know me from Eve (I don't think I know her but the ol' brain is naught but a swiss cheese these days) though I suspect if I dig deep enough, I will find she is a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend. That, however, is no excuse. (I mean, shouldn’t this be illegal? Or at the very least, mildly frowned upon?) Still, I have never been tagged before, and because this is a rather different one, I’m going to play.
50/50 (as in being torn between liking one or the other the best--I’m supposed to do five of these but since breaking the rules seems to be the name of the game with this tag that’s the way I’m going to roll and do only one. Call me a rebel but only if it makes you feel better).
P. or W. Let me explain. Today on the way to school, the Little Guy informed me that when he is 10, he is going to go by his actual first name, W. (yes, we call him by his middle name, long story) because by then, he will be “cool”. I asked him to please define cool. “Well, you know how right now I am sweet and kind and thoughtful? When I am the W. side of me, I am going to be cool, instead.” I told him I didn’t like it and hoped he could still be kind and sweet and thoughtful when W. made his so-cool appearance. That’s when he made a noble concession and agreed to be P. at home while being W. at school. I told him I thought he should be kind and sweet and thoughtful as well as cool at school and at home and hoped he could be both when the time came that he was too cool for school. His response was to refuse to give me my hug and kiss as he got out of the car. In fact, he wouldn't even look at me and gave the van door a good ol' crash for good measure. (W. has made an appearance already, it seems). So, I am torn because even when he is talking trash, he is so smart and cute in an innocent kind of way. Yet, I am deeply disturbed.
Pet Peeves (again, there are supposed to be only five . . .)
Being frugal, just for the sake of being frugal. I can be frugal, mind you, if there is something I want more than I want what it is I am talking myself out of buying in an impatient and impulsive way. But being frugal just to be able to make it until the end of the month with enough grocery money? What! Again? BoRRRing!
Things that don’t go well together.
Boys and girls. (I’m adamant about this. Those of you with only female/male offspring who spend nights weeping into your pillow due to the lack of either estrogen or testosterone in your abode, don’t know what you’re missing. And it ain’t pretty.) Something else that doesn’t go well together: girls and girls. And another thing that (apparently) doesn't go well together since it is about as rare as a snow day in San Diego: girls and good hygiene (though they certainly don’t have the corner on that market), as well as teenage girls and a honeysweet attitude and, lastly, girls and good fashion. Have you seen what’s available in the stores these day? Gah!! (I guess I should be glad my girl dresses like a boy.)
(Nope! Can't do it.)
The final tag item is to share a photo of my handwriting, both right and left. The ubiquitous “they” say if you don’t learn to use the non-dominant hand before age 21, that hand will be useless forever. Thank goodness I slipped in the whole guitar thing just in the nick of time. Since I learned to play, I have been able to do that thing where you pat the top of your head and rub your belly with your hand in a circular pattern at the same time with absolutely no problem whatsoever (mission accomplished!).
So, now I am done with my tag for which I am very grateful.
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