Miss H. is humming a happy song and coloring pink hearts, pretty flower gardens, butterflies, and fairies; she'll soon be turning 8.
I may as well bust out the bad news for her before she has a chance to imagine too many cheerful hopes and dreams. I'll be doing her a favor, really. She ought to know that the princess stories are a bunch of booshit, and that if there really is a Prince Charming he'll probably turn out to be more interested in either her brother or the dumb skeezer with bigger tits.
After warming up with that glad news, I'll explain the whole income tax structure to her ( after all, why even try to generate an income?? go straight to public aid! government cheese is tasty), then I'll tell her I can't really think about sending her to a good school anyhow because I spent all the money on fancy shoes, and that the shoes were a necessary expenditure to lift my spirits because her daddy is an ASSHOLE! SHOES OR VODKA??? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME?
Next I'll break the news about Santa, the "woman's curse" natural childbirth, acne, what boys really want, and what actually happened to her goldfish (should have been on Discovery Channel--soo gross). If her soul does not appear to be too savagely crushed, we'll go out for ice cream where I may or may not explain the relationship between ice cream and fat thighs. Happy Birthday Baby!!
OR maybe I'll just get her a new bike and we'll play some Scrabble; so many decisions.
7 comments:
Ice cream is healing.
Chocolate is soothing. B
Buying new shoes is mind numbing.(which comes in handy when life sucks)
A new handbag can shift the winds.
These are the truths that we MUST teach our daughters!!
Oh, and don't forget the coffee.
ummm, I didnt tell my kid this stuff till she was at least 10. Times are a changin so I guess earlier is better.
And I remember 8. It was good and getting even better. Her little mind was becoming her own. Opinions, ideas even arguments had a lot more substance. Yet I still had a few more years left where she adored, no wait, worshipped me. =)
Happy Birthday Miss H!!
I teach my daughter slightly different truths. A good book is wonderful and even a bad book is better than no book. Butterfly is the best stroke, followed by breaststroke. Math is fun. Life is a comedy and it's much better to be in on the joke. The corollary to that is don't take yourself too seriously. Most things are better with chocolate (or BBQ sauce). And of course most importantly that her Daddy is the greatest.
You could send H down Dallas way for a week or two and let her have some fun with Uncle Whale and the other K's.
OK, OK. I'll back off the gloom and doom. It doesn't make much difference because no matter what I tell her she will keep being a happy little person, that is how she's built. I am very pleased about this.
However: I do very clearly remember that the third grade was when the boys started to get WEIRD.
AND if she comes to Dallas, I'm coming too.
yeah, cooties are nasty nasty things.
C'mon Mrs Bunker, some women find that prince in shining armor... just look at Michelle Obama... I've only got 6 pairs of shoes...new/old sneakers, new/old wingtips, new/old combat boots... but I've got 2 private school tuitions to pay....
Frank
OK Frank, YOU are a prince. You know exactly how much room a man should consume withing a closed. kudos, just don't let the white horse shit in the living room.
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