Earlier today I was scoping my comments for words of encouragement and I happened to notice that my readers, or people claiming to read this blog, are of a certain demographic. They all happen to be, you guessed it, mid western mothers. This did not surprise me, due to my sister being neck deep in this gang of women bloggers and my biggest fan, although she has decided to school me with every piece she publishes, but oh well, I'm trying. However, initially when I decided to write this blog I thought I would be appealing to other readers, maybe closer, to my demographic. I was expecting to see comments such as, "Dude I totally agree, you are the voice my generation. Would you be my child's Godfather?" But, But ladies before you stop reading and think I am not appreciative of your comments or simply not trying to connect with you here is one for ya..
I just spent the last hour washing dirty dishes and explaining to my girlfriend's 8 year old daughter that Chucky, the fictional movie doll, is not real, as she spilled an M&M McFlurry all over couch for the second time this week, which is my fault because at the very moment I pick her up from school I hear, "You know the drill..," not, "Hey Steve!!" Call me crazy but isn't Chucky like circa 1990? That would be like my sister and I having nightmares over Jaws. Nonetheless she's trippin. In my opinion it seems so far fetched to believe that a doll is real. In the midst of getting my point across with soapy hands and the long sleeve of my right arm inching closer towards the wetness, of which I said screw it I'm not going anywhere today and just rolled it up, ruining the elastic wool grip with sudsy moisture, I grabbed her naked Barbie doll, stared at its chest for only split second and said sternly, "Mya does this Barbie doll have a brain, a heart, or lungs?" She replied, "No, but its not possessed by an evil spell like Chucky is dumb dumb!"
I returned to my dishes, hot from the debate and annoyed with my now lop sided sweater, thinking to myself what kind of angle should I take at convincing this little rugrat of my point. I scrubbed, dried stared aimlessly out onto our front yard for answers. For an instant I thought why don't we have a dish washer? The one time I brought it up to my girlfriend she said she would still wash the dishes thoroughly before placing them into the machine, thats just crazy. Thats like walking somewhere before driving there. Then I started to move back into the Chucky dilemma. I thought to myself we expect her to believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy (of which I just recently learned is a woman) but get frustrated when she believes in the characterization of a horror film doll that you can actually see moving and talking on TNT every other month. I put myself in her shoes and for one of the first times instead of thinking she was just being dramatic I understood how her brain works. I understood why her eyes well up when we don't stop by Build a Bear after we said we would try to or when dinner runs late and Yahtzee was supposed to be the plan before bed time. I heard a comedian once ask why we thought kids get so upset when their balloons break free and fly away? He said just imagine your wallet being tied to a string and floating out of your back pocket into the sky. I thought that was a pretty good analogy for how our perspectives differ so widely.
Maybe next time instead of finding new ways to break the McFlurry drill after school I'll just cough up the two dollars and fifty seven cents because that just might be the Everest of her day. Also, she's bound to get tired of the same flavor sometime soon.
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4 comments:
You bring up a very interesting fact about the mind of a little one. They thrive on regularity. It makes them feel safe and loved. I have spent so much time thinking about all of the "interesting" things that I can take my kids to do when all they really want to do is grab some Chicken McNuggets and play at the playground. Every day. It could make a weaker person want to gouge their eyes out. The payoff is so much sweeter, though.
The second part of my comment has to do with self-promotion. Did you catch that? *SELF-PROMOTION!!* In order to be the voice of your generation - your generation needs to know that you have a blog. Put a link to StoTheK on your Myspace. Put a link to it on the bottom of your emails. A little bit will go a long way. Until then - put on your apron and get those dish-pan hands typing - because the house-fraus can't get enough!
Second for this hausfrau, though you're worth waiting for.
And don't worry about catering to what you think midwestern moms might like. For some reason, what you've been doing is working.
I'm with Betty. Although I appreciate what you've done here, there's plenty of parenting perspective in my own life. Your voice was much more natural when you were talking about the retarded Christmas sweater parties. You weren't attempting to be funny, you were funny. Know what I mean?
By the way, I would try to break the McFlurry routine. (I'm such a mom!)
So, a little birdie told me that you got a new camera. Will you at least post some pictures???
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