We call my eldest son "El Generalito" which means The Little General in Spanish. A roar from him makes the younger kids shake in their boots, and he seems to have the determation of his father coupled with the sensitivity and fantastical instability of his mother when under pressure (translation: he can be a crybaby). It seems its far more acceptable for males to act out this instability with aggression, which bodes well for him because it is likely that he won't be a crybaby as an adult. I'd like to take this moment remind you all of teary, blubbering me at my wedding trying to say my vows. Good thing a bridesmaid had tissue stuffed away in her bra. Hahahah! Who was that anyway? Back to my son, we live in the hills and we get an assortment of little bugaboos during springtime. Some teeny weeny carpet beetles have ventured in through cracks in the fireplace and El Generalito gets out his Marshmallow Bazooka, which when unloaded shoots out a blast of air, a mini version of the air gun Javier Bardem's character touted around in the book No Country for Old Men. He and his lil brother aim it at the cowering little beetle on the ground and he yells "Time to go!" and pop! the beetle is blown away as if by a wave of an atomic bomb. It's funny as hell to watch, but the thought of it sure can keep you awake in the wee hours of the night, rethinking your political party
Spent this morning going vegan
Got to eatin' and thinkin'
while I crunch on pita chips and seaweed
In a crabby mood I'm thrown
and better off being alone
I think I'd have more fun with the nanny
than a crusty mom at home
Alfalfa sprout and cucumber sandwiches
thanks to those evil Skinny Bitches
who wrote the book with all that sick in it
and make me feel like a heartless savage
because I like to eat chicken.
Brain's not working right here
Brushed off my Shakespeare
forsook Iambic pentameter
There, I turned it off again
in favor of Eminem
Thinkin' about a stupid phrase
upon a car window shade
Stuff for the masses I love to hate
It reads "Love Kills Slowly"
I watch a commercial victim drive away
Off to buy soda pop, cigarettes, caffeine,
hamburgers, french fries, milkshakes and fatty things
All the things I'd love to eat
Know my life's got more than this
Know I've got blessings to hold and kiss
But I wish for just one minute
as I munch on peppers and spinach
that I didn't have so much to live for
If what I know I could forget again
Damn, I hate going vegan.
I'll never do this damned diet again.
Copyright 2011 by Liz R. Newman