Wt: 168.6 new world record
I always give money to the Salvation Army bell ringers both on the way in and out of the store. Partly bc social pressure, partly because I’m usually with kids and they like stuffing money into the bucket & partly out of genuine charity. But my #1 reason is spite: Years ago…
Drug addict: I hate the Salvation Army.
Me: Why? Aren’t you staying there now?
DA: #$%& them!!! They make you work. They get you up early. You can’t be drunk or high there. They make you do chores, etc
I have been a big Salvation Army supporter ever since.
Me: OK, last chance to make a request, what do you want for Christmas?
Karena: I WANT REX TO HOME SCHOOL AND I WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY
Me: so, um, paint?
I use a small rectangular mirror to see the back of my head when i shave it. I left it on the bathroom counter…
Quincy: Whose tablet is this?
Two years ago…
Karena: YOUR RELATIVES WANT TO KNOW WHAT KIND OF TOYS REX LIKES
Me: He likes…hmm…Rex doesn’t like toys!
Karena: THAT’S NONSENSE
Me: Name one toy he plays with that’s not a video game or a book.
Karena: WHAT IS WRONG WITH OUR SON
Quincy is more than happy to play with all of Rex’s toys. When I was growing up I was very stingy, basically like a toy hoarder. True, my brother was only two years younger and played with the same type of stuff, so we didn’t want to share like, a GI Joe figure. Probably as a result* of this I am a Communist in terms of redistribution of our family’s toy wealth.
*Basically everything anyone does as a parent is an attempt to keep their kids from making the same dumbass mistakes/having the same character flaws as you, a correction of a perceived deficiency in one’s upbringing, or an attempt to imitate one’s parents bc nostalgia/cargo cultism
There’s a giant box of Legos that Rex keeps in his room and has never played with (Sorry mom – at least I had fun building them)
Quincy: Can I play with your Legos, Rex?
Rex: No! Get out of here!
Me (swooping in like KGB agent): Aha! Yes you can – and if Rex doesn’t shape up, you can keep them in your room!
A minute later they were happily building things together which was kind of heartwarming except that Rex was supposed to be doing his homework so he and I got yelled at but it was worth it.
Quincy also plays with his green plastic army men which Rex has so little interest in that he doesn’t even bother to stop her. I don’t think he even knows that they were originally his.
Quincy (dividing them into teams): Daddy, these are the boys and these are the girls.
Me: Sure, honey.
Quincy: These are the Rusties, and these are the Rosies
Me: Uh, okay.
Quincy: This is the shooting team and this is the cutting team.
Me: Do you want to play Play-Doh?
Lullaby Elmo – redistributed from bourgeoise Quincy to proleterian Coach Jr.