September 1, 2010
“Hey Mom, what is the difference between Ian and Saturn?”
“I don’t know. What?”
“They both have really big gas, but at least Saturn has rings.”
(LeBron still doesn’t think it is funny.)
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[photo: Al Bello, Getty]
August 29, 2010
I was in a bus accident yesterday.
I was looking out of my window and I said to Gabe “That guy is totally going to hit us.”
Then he did.
I suppose accident is overstating what happened. I mean it was a crash, but it was an extraordinarily low speed collision.
Our bus was stopped and waiting in line to pay a toll and a moron in a Ford Explorer that was trying to edge his way in front of us must not have noticed that we were not moving at all and he sideswiped a completely stationary bus.
It occurs to me that this was the third time that I have been in a bus that was hit by another vehicle.
The first time I was in Jr. High and I was riding school bus to school and the school bus behind us (filled with friends from the same school) rear ended us.
Nobody was seriously injured, but a lot of stupid sixth graders acted like they had whiplash to get out of social studies.
I wasn’t one of them. I liked social studies.
The second time I was in a bus wreck I was on a choir trip to Chicago. We were in rush hour traffic and a car that was trying to edge its way into our lane side swiped out tour bus.
It was almost as sad as yesterday.
But yesterday our bus was stopped. We were at a complete standstill. He didn’t even hit the front corner of the bus. He hit the side. I mean this was a sizable vehicle. How did he not see it?
Or was he just such a dick that he assumed the bus would somehow back up quickly to let him in because he “meant it”?
Whatever.
I’m glad I am not the bus driver. Sure, the guy who hit us was at fault, but now this driver will have to explain to his boss that some jerk hit a bus full of paying customers because our driver was in too big of a hurry to let in one more car.
Nobody got hurt, but the Explorer lost a side mirror and hopefully both drivers feel bad about themselves.
There are two morals to this story.
1) Just let the damn car cut in front of you. Is it really worth all that paperwork?
and
2) Don’t ride in a bus with me.
August 27, 2010
“What are you doing Mom?”
“I’m just trying to think of something to write about for my MamaPop post today.” 
He thought about it for a while.
“Why don’t you just type random letters?”
“Just like 10th grade geography papers?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
*
August 24, 2010
I was sitting at the table, eating my yogurt, minding my own business when the phone rang.
It was an automated survey.
Question: Do you own a small dog? 
I said no.
THAT WAS THE ENTIRE SURVEY?
What the hell kind of business could require an anonymous automated telephone survey where the sole question is “Do you own a small dog?”
Are the politicians planning a smear campaign claiming that one of the candidates hates small dogs? Do they have a picture of a senator kicking a chihuahua? Or am I totally off. Maybe there were more questions if you said yes to the first query.
Maybe Alex Trebek was punking me.
I don’t know the answer, but I do know this:
1) I am going to stop answering my phone.
2) This crap is going to bother me for months.
[photo: Nutloaf]
August 23, 2010
There are actually two kinds of BlogHer hangovers. The kind of hangover I wrote about two weeks ago and the kind where you run out of words. Usually when I come home from BlogHer I find that I have mysteriously run out of things to say. It is as if I have told most of you in person and I don’t need to write any posts.
This year I thought I avoided that.
I came home from New York and I had plenty to write about.
Then all of the sudden I didn’t. I haven’t written here in a week and my last post was three YouTube videos.
I owe you more than that.
You know that I used to write for the now defunct DC Metro Moms Blog, right? Well, I did, and every once in a while I wrote something worth reading over there. Now that they have closed their doors they are allowing us to cross-post our work on our personal blogs. I wrote this this particular post last summer. It got picked up by several newspapers so it must be decent, right? Anyway, with back to school season upon The Goon Squad this seemed like an appropriate time to share it with you.
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The Class of 2022
My twins turned five this week. Between all of the preschool birthday celebrations and the birthday party (you know the one where I invited every child in both of their classes? Can you even imagine 32 four and five year olds in one room… after eating chocolate cake?) I didn’t have time to think much about kindergarten orientation.
Okay fine. I didn’t know about it until a week before so I didn’t have much time to obsess about it.
I came prepared the way any good blogger would. I had my camera and my iPhone. I figured I could twitter during the boring parts.
The tweeting never happened. First of all, I got stuck in the front row and second of all as soon as the principal started talking I was riveted.
She walked out and said “Welcome to the class of 2022.”
The class of 2022! Let’s pretend for just a second it doesn’t sound like something in a science fiction book. I remember thinking 1984 was futuristic. 2022.
That reminds me of a quick story. My husband and I were shopping for a couch recently and we went into a furniture store that could only be described as “mod”. The stuff in there was very cool, very uncomfortable and very overpriced. The problem is it all had the effect of Tomorrowland. You know, yesterdays idea of the future.
I said to my husband “That looks totally 2001.” The I realized that I had to clarify “Not the year, the space odyssey.”
It seemed so odd that 2001 was eight years ago. Now here I am sitting in a small plastic chair thinking about my babies graduating from high school.
In space suits.
I’ll fly to their graduation with my jet pack. Even that idea is outdated isn’t it?
I’d like to propose a toast to the class of 2022. It will be here sooner than we think.
