“Well, don’t you want to hear it?”
Precious: “I don’t think Mommy’s talking to you anymore. Go ahead and tell me.”
“I was just thinking that we could replicate an experiment that I read about in which you can actually change the molecular structure of a water crystal by exposing it to words, pictures, and even soothing music. Then all we’d have to do is photograph it with a special macro lens and using the research facilities of a major university we could develop some amazing slides that illustrate the aesthetics and the quantity of the crystals.”
Our jaws dropped.
Finally, I spoke.
“You’re going to talk to water? Nobody’s going to believe an eight-year-old came up with that. Hey! I’ve got an idea. What if we all eat a bunch of beets and then write about how it makes your pee turn purple?”
“Oh, great,” hubby sneered. “Why don’t we make a baking soda volcano? Now that’s something nobody has ever thought of doing.”
“Tornado in a bottle?” I offered brightly.
“Arrrrgggh.”
“There’s no need to get snippy,” I said. “How about this? What if we spread a dirty rumor about somebody and then sit back and see how long it takes to get back to us?”
“That’s not science!” he shrieked. “That’s Telephone.”
His eyes were seriously dancing in his head now. I was afraid he was going to go all A Beautiful Mind on us and start writing shit on the walls.
“Well, have you got any more ideas, Mr. Wizard?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do,” he said. “We could change carbon into iron or even build a homopolar generator.”
I snickered. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“I said homo polar, ” hubby snapped. “What are you? Two? Look, I have another idea. We could build an interferometer. It’s sort of a squealing wall.”
“I think they’ve got some of those at Chuck E. Cheese’s,” I said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go talk to some Chardonnay and see if it has anything to say back.”
14
Slacker Moms Don’t Have a Ghost of a Chance
The annual science fair came and went and the Princess actually made it to “alternate,” which meant that she was almost, but not quite, good enough to go to the next level of competition. As it turned out, we had settled on a fabulous experiment called “Is Daddy Making Us Sick?” which used petri dishes to determine that, yes, if Daddy drinks milk from the carton, there is a transfer of his mouth germs to the liquid and so we’re all basically just lucky to be alive.
The judges praised her science project and, with the new “alternate” status, I sensed it wouldn’t be long before I was back in the good graces of the Popular Mommies, including some who were still smarting a bit from my anti-uniform rant.
You’re probably wondering why I care so much about the Popular Mommies’ opinion of me and I will not lie to you.
See, if you aren’t in good with the mommies of your kid’s friends, you can’t in good conscience call on them to help you with after school child care when you really need it. Or, as Hillary Rodham Clinton says, “It takes a village, assholes.”
For instance, if you can only get a mani/pedi or hair color appointment at three in the afternoon, it doesn’t take long to realize that the whole picking-up-the-kid-at-school thing is going to screw that up.
Oh. You thought I meant that I needed child care help so I could volunteer with the local bloodmobile or some such?
Are you high? Y’all know me better’n that by now.
Of course, I’m not above lying to make it sound more noble. After all, the mommies might not appreciate the truth, that I had TiVo’d every episode of Friday Night Lights and really needed some alone time to watch each episode.
You can’t ask somebody to baby-sit your kid for free just so you can catch up on your must-see TV. That’s nuts. So you tell them something more palatable where everybody’s a winner. Something like:
Precious: “I don’t think Mommy’s talking to you anymore. Go ahead and tell me.”
“I was just thinking that we could replicate an experiment that I read about in which you can actually change the molecular structure of a water crystal by exposing it to words, pictures, and even soothing music. Then all we’d have to do is photograph it with a special macro lens and using the research facilities of a major university we could develop some amazing slides that illustrate the aesthetics and the quantity of the crystals.”
Our jaws dropped.
Finally, I spoke.
“You’re going to talk to water? Nobody’s going to believe an eight-year-old came up with that. Hey! I’ve got an idea. What if we all eat a bunch of beets and then write about how it makes your pee turn purple?”
“Oh, great,” hubby sneered. “Why don’t we make a baking soda volcano? Now that’s something nobody has ever thought of doing.”
“Tornado in a bottle?” I offered brightly.
“Arrrrgggh.”
“There’s no need to get snippy,” I said. “How about this? What if we spread a dirty rumor about somebody and then sit back and see how long it takes to get back to us?”
“That’s not science!” he shrieked. “That’s Telephone.”
His eyes were seriously dancing in his head now. I was afraid he was going to go all A Beautiful Mind on us and start writing shit on the walls.
“Well, have you got any more ideas, Mr. Wizard?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do,” he said. “We could change carbon into iron or even build a homopolar generator.”
I snickered. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“I said homo polar, ” hubby snapped. “What are you? Two? Look, I have another idea. We could build an interferometer. It’s sort of a squealing wall.”
“I think they’ve got some of those at Chuck E. Cheese’s,” I said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go talk to some Chardonnay and see if it has anything to say back.”
14
Slacker Moms Don’t Have a Ghost of a Chance
The annual science fair came and went and the Princess actually made it to “alternate,” which meant that she was almost, but not quite, good enough to go to the next level of competition. As it turned out, we had settled on a fabulous experiment called “Is Daddy Making Us Sick?” which used petri dishes to determine that, yes, if Daddy drinks milk from the carton, there is a transfer of his mouth germs to the liquid and so we’re all basically just lucky to be alive.
The judges praised her science project and, with the new “alternate” status, I sensed it wouldn’t be long before I was back in the good graces of the Popular Mommies, including some who were still smarting a bit from my anti-uniform rant.
You’re probably wondering why I care so much about the Popular Mommies’ opinion of me and I will not lie to you.
See, if you aren’t in good with the mommies of your kid’s friends, you can’t in good conscience call on them to help you with after school child care when you really need it. Or, as Hillary Rodham Clinton says, “It takes a village, assholes.”
For instance, if you can only get a mani/pedi or hair color appointment at three in the afternoon, it doesn’t take long to realize that the whole picking-up-the-kid-at-school thing is going to screw that up.
Oh. You thought I meant that I needed child care help so I could volunteer with the local bloodmobile or some such?
Are you high? Y’all know me better’n that by now.
Of course, I’m not above lying to make it sound more noble. After all, the mommies might not appreciate the truth, that I had TiVo’d every episode of Friday Night Lights and really needed some alone time to watch each episode.
You can’t ask somebody to baby-sit your kid for free just so you can catch up on your must-see TV. That’s nuts. So you tell them something more palatable where everybody’s a winner. Something like:
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