SHALLOW. Like son like mother.

Again, I admit I’m a terrible person.  It’s kind of my running theme.  And I’m passing it on to the next generation.  Thank me later.

So I was talking to The Destroyer about a girl he likes.  Liked.  Here’s the deal:  I try to instill in my children that looks aren’t everything.  I try to tell them that what makes a person special is on the inside.  Stay with me here.

This is how the conversation went:

“Hey, whatever happened to ____?”  (At this stage, I’m not trying to remember their names.)

He shrugs.  “She’s not my type.”

“What does that mean?”

Another shrug.  So, I think, she’s tore up.

“Destroyer, everything can’t be looks.  I mean, is she smart? Funny? Interesting?”

“She’s smart.  I just don’t like her, mom.  Leave it alone.” I wasn’t about to leave it alone.  Me?  Nerd extraordinaire? Raise a shallow kid?  Not gonna happen.  If he can’t see inner beauty, then he’s the same as all those shallow jerks that I went to school with.  You know, the ones who couldn’t see my inner beauty.

“Listen, there’s a such thing as inner beauty.  I mean—wait.  Is that her?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.  Oh, my. WOOF. Jaysus. My goodness, Destroyer. Did—did you know what she looked like?”

“I was trying to tell you.”

“Okay.  Duck.  I’ll peel outta here before she knows you’re here.”

Don’t get mad, you guys.  I really do want my son to be with a woman of substance.  I just don’t want her to be tore-up ugly.  And I don’t mean like a big nose or overweight or a limp.  I mean looking like a Garbage Pail Kid.

Sweartogod, this is HannahMckaylaBrittneyEricaAleshaRenee
Sweartogod, this is HannahMckaylaBrittneyEricaAleshaRenee

And I know there are parents out there who wouldn’t want their son- or daughter-in-law to be fat like me.  I’ve decided not to be mad about that.  (Especially since I know that my mother-in-law wanted her son to marry a pretty, petite, blonde.  Which is the polar opposite of me and I decided not to be mad about that.  Especially since I make the Big Man very happy. Also, I’m sexy-fat.  So there’s that.)

The thing is, men get to be shallow about ALL KINDS OF THINGS. Like if a woman has hammer toes.  So, I feel like I get to be shallow about some things.  And this is one of them.  I get to think that my smart, beautiful son is out of a particular girl’s league.

I happened to marry an attractive man.  And I know that they’re my kids, but my kids are pretty darn good looking.  And I would like to have good looking grandchildren.

I don’t worry about this too much with Wondergirl.  She already has criteria in place for the man she wants to meet in 2026.  (That’s the year she has projected, not me.) She actually said, “He has to be reasonably handsome.  Not way fine, cause I’m not trying to fight over him. ” (This is a lie.  She wants any excuse to fight.) “And rich,” she added. “He has to be rich.”  Of course he does.  How else would she fund her world-dictatorship campaign? (Omega Prime, I’m looking at you, kid.)

Look, I guess it boils down to this:  If a dad can tell his son to date hot chicks, so can a mom.  Also, I hope that she’s kinda dumb. That way, I can trick her into telling the truth about what her and my son have been up to.

Oh, and then, THEN, another girl had the nerve to tell the Destroyer that she didn’t want to talk to him because some kids said that his mother is crazy.  WHAT?!?  Only SOME kids think I’m crazy?  Well, I must be losing my touch.

These are My Confessions. Better than Usher’s.

Hey, y’all!  It has been a rough week, what with the first day of school and all.  Trying to get these people together so they can get and education and get up out my house is rough, is what I’m saying.

Anyhoo, LeFou, I’m afraid I’ve been thinking (a dangerous pastime, I know).  I am always sharing my random thoughts with you guys, but ever the crazy stuff I think about on a regular basis. So here are my confessions:

  1. Wondergirl is in middle school. MIDDLE SCHOOL, you guys. So I cried when I dropped her off on the first day. I dropped the Destroyer off at the same time, but whatever.
  2. I read the Huffington Post unironically. I am ashamed.
  3. I used to laugh at my mother and now I am her. Kind of. Again, her house is clean.
  4. I don’t like babies in general. There, I said it.
  5. I secretly wish I could do the splits. I will never do anything to achieve this goal, though. I just wish there was some miracle do-the-splits cream. But I guess that would have to come after the miracle lose-75-pounds cream. Somebody get on this.
  6. I think the Beygency is real. And out to get me. (It is real. It’s called the Beyhive and one time I said I thought Beyonce was dumb. Long story short, Beyoncé slander should be one of the reasons to go into witness protection.)
  7. I got yelled at one time for referring to Bridget Moynahan as Tome Brady’s baby mama. Instead of saying “his son’s mother”. Apparently I was being disrespectful to someone who bores the mess out of me on three different channels in syndication. As if once a week isn’t enough. I get mad about it to this day. And she is his baby mama.
  8. I get angry because I’m not Serena Williams. I also get angry because I’m not Venus. Or active.
  9. I often think to myself, “If I were 5’7”, none of this would have happened.”
  10. My husband’s never seen the original Star Wars trilogy. I am ashamed.
  11. I think Ina Garten is trying to make me look bad. No one else. Just me.
  12. So, the Destroyer went to the Prime house for a sleepover with Optimus. I fear that he got a taste of real mothering and is way disappointed in the mom-hand he was dealt. Of course he won’t tell me. But I still suspect. Not that this is an incentive for me to be a better mom in any way. Like I said, the hand he was dealt
  13. I broke every light in my parent’s house trying to kill flies. True story. ( I HATE flies.) I regret nothing.

    Killin em softly. With shattering glass.
    Killin em softly. With shattering glass.
  14. Sometimes I make Kid Sensation look at me just because he has such pretty eyes. They look a little like anime.
  15. Rocky V is on my TV right now. And I’m kinda watching it. I am ashamed. It is so terrible I think I just got botulism.
  16. The first two seasons of Spongebob Squarepants changed my life.
  17. The Big Man is capable of farts that wake me up out of REM sleep. Okay, so I guess that might be his secret, but I needed to tell someone.
  18. I wear five-inch heels on a regular basis. And I walk extremely well in them. And then I am a cripple for like, three hours after I take them off.
  19. I refuse, you hear me, REFUSE to stop wearing five-inch heels.
  20. You guys, this Rocky movie is soooooo bad. And I’m still watching it. I’m sure the rap in it caused radiation poisoning. Even I remember jamming to at least one of the songs when I was a kid.

I may have more confessions.  Can’t think of any right now, but you KNOW I’ll share when I do.  Too bad for you.