A #5 Interlude, Brought To You By Bacon

If you haven’t checked out Leanne Shirtliffe’s blog Ironic Mom and Chase McFadden’s blog Some Species Eat Their Young go do it right now. They’re both awesomely funny. Funnier than an 8-year-old boy with a speech impediment and a New Jersey accent singing The Offspring’s Self Esteem on Guitar Hero.

I’ll wait.

Recently they teamed up and created a new site called Stuff Kids Write. Go check that one out too, I’ll wait again. I’m good at waiting.

Actually, no, I’m not. I’m terribly impatient.

While digging through the pile of funny crap from the kids that I have saved, looking for something to send them for Stuff Kids Write, I came across a piece that is epic in the truest sense of the word: long and repetitive (which is why I didn’t send this one).

We have a social worker who works full time for the school district, dividing her time among all the elementary schools. At the beginning of this school year, she gave #5’s third-grade class the following project. They worked on it in class. It’s about getting in touch with your feelings, being okay with feeling sad or angry or embarrassed, as well as laying out some hopes and dreams.

That’s the cover. He started off okay. I skipped the first 30 pages (I did mention it was epic, yes?)

He’s not exactly verbose here, but he’s at least answering the questions.

I would like to say something nice to… Dad

I would be happier if…I had money

If I have my own children some day I’ll be sure to… hug them

Right here is where things took a turn.

I just love… bacon

I need more… bacon

If I were older I’d… buy bacon

I would like someone to help me… get bacon

I love to eat… bacon

I don’t like it when… I don’t get bacon

I am very good at… loving bacon

At night I like to… dream about bacon

I’d use a magic want to… get bacon

You can tell when someone likes you by… giving me bacon

If I were a teacher, I would… tell evry body to bring bacon

The best time for me is when… I get bacon

If I had very long legs, I would… walk to bacon

I’m the kind of person who… likes bacon

I look best when… I get bacon

I just love to…get bacon

I wish I could change… my house into bacon

I don’t like it when people… don’t give me bacon

I sometimes wonder if… I will get bacon

I would like to give a present of… bacon to… me.

One of the best things about me is… I like bacon

When I was little… I loved bacon

I like going home because… I get bacon

I feel happy when people… give me bacon

If I were very tiny, I would…steal bacon

I wish someone would give me a gift box containing…bacon

I felt like crying when… I don’t get bacon

We did not receive a call from the social worker, his teacher, or the principal. We are protected by bacon.

I Never Claimed To Be Appropriate.

Here’s a rule at my house:

There will be no one food item that all five kids will like at the same time. Which kid likes or dislikes a specific food item is subject to change without notice.

Therefore, there is only one proper response to the following statements:

#2: I don’t like pie.

#3: I don’t like chocolate.

#5: I don’t like vanilla.

#2: I don’t like berries.

#4: I don’t like peanut butter.

#3: I don’t like cake.

#4: I don’t like bacon.

Me: (in my best Joe McCarthy voice) What are ya, a freakin’ Commie?

This is hilarious to me. I think it’s one of the funniest things I say. Like all of my good material, it isn’t mine. I don’t remember who I stole it from but I’ve been using it forever.

The kids don’t understand the intricacies of what make this joke funny to us. They only know that it makes us laugh. So they throw it out to each other and to us whenever possible, because in our house, making each other laugh is the very most important thing.

One day last December, #1 had a friend over after school. Everyone was sitting at the kitchen table, having snacks, pretending to do homework, chatting.

#1’s friend: Your Christmas tree is really pretty. Is it real or fake?

#5: It’s real. What kind of Christmas tree do you have?

#1’s friend: We don’t have a tree because we don’t celebrate Christmas. We’re Jewish.

#5: (breaks into a huge smile, points at her and shouts) You’re a Commie!

Yes, folks, I did that. That’s my work there.

#1 and I just stared at each other with our mouths open for a minute, and then we fought not to laugh. Well, I fought; I don’t remember her fighting too hard or even coming to my aid, now that I think about it. I launched into some lame explanation to #1’s friend, trying to explain away a joke that in the current context clearly wasn’t funny, except that it was hilarious in the context of inappropriateness and bad parenting.

Later, when I had a talk with #5 about how “different people believe different things”, he was way ahead of me. He has zero problems with anyone’s religion.

Then I tried to explain why it’s okay to make fun of someone who doesn’t like pie, but it’s way not okay to make fun of someone who doesn’t celebrate Christmas. (I left out my justification for why it’s okay to make fun of an entire political system.) He just stared at me with complete and total incomprehension. I realized that the nuances of a good double standard are lost on a seven-year-old boy, particularly when he’s making people laugh.

So I settled for us adding Commies to the growing list of jokes that can only happen with just the family.

MegaPuggle VS. Giant Octopus

Behold, Giant Octopus:

Behold, Giant Octopus with his tasty, squeaky heart ripped out.

(Yes, those are my unmentionables drying on the lamp. I was going to edit them out until I remembered that I don’t have or know Photoshop, at which point I ate a cookie.)

He is also missing some legs.

I have no idea how this happened, but I suspect MegaPuggle.

Who thinks that the only thing better than taking down Giant Octopus is the severed leg that turned sad, heart-free Hexapus into sadder, still-heart-free-with-a-giant-hole-in-its-head Pentapus.

Mmmmm. Severed tentacle.

In case you missed it, you should check out this movie. Debra “don’t-call-me-Debbie-when-referring-to-my-acting ” Gibson and Lorenzo Lamas in the same movie. My friend Jeff actually got paid to work on this. Or else someone he knew got paid to work on it in the studio next to him while he was working on Borat. No, that was before. I can’t remember. I’d ask him but he’s expecting his first child any second. Unless you hate babies, check out this trailer. I promise it’s worth it.