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Puttin' the FUN in dys-FUN-ctional!! It's the holidays! Time for Ding Fries Are Done! |
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So, while eating dinner and being scolded for putting our elbows on the table or chewing with our mouths open, or bitching about school and the long walk from the bus stop to the house, or even when we had once again done a half-ass job* on our ever-hated chores, we would hear another story about Our Plight vs. Their Plight. And during these lessons (the child in me positively inSISTING that we heard this particular anecdote at least once a week), we were told how lucky we were that we even HAD the luxury of things like a school bus and a long driveway that we had to lurch up and down each day to meet said bus. Because when THEY were kids? They had to WALK to school. For MILES and MILES. On roads of dirt! (Dirt which, apparently, they were occasionally required to EAT, and they were Damned Glad to HAVE it, too!) And, inevitably, the story could not be completed without reminding us that it was aaaalways snowing in Colorado --year-round-- and that the trek to school was somehow uphill...BOTH WAYS. Oh, and girls weren't allowed to wear pants back then...they had to wear skirts. And do you even know how biting the cold was against bare skin? And I'm sorry to say that that was the only part of the story that came even close to tugging at my heart string. But since I was a tomboy (and refused to wear skirts until my hormones showed up years later, of course), that tugging was merely a fleeting emotion that passed as quickly as it came. Instead, my siblings and I would roll our eyes as the story began, and we would all chime in, always in unison, and would finish the story for my parents: "...We KNOW ...WALK to school ...in the SNOW ...upHILL ...BOOOOTTTTHHH WAAAAAAYYYYYYS ...uhhhhhhAAAUUUUGGGHHH! Okaaayyy! We geeeeeeet iiiiit! Geeeeeez."
So I was amused when, the other day, my mother forwarded me the following email:
Dr. Arun Gandhi, grandson of Mahatma Gandhi and founder of the M.K.Gandhi
Institute for Non-violence, in his June 9 lecture at the University of
Puerto Rico, shared the following story as an example of 'non-violence in
parenting':
"I was 16 years old and living with my parents at the institute my
grandfather had founded 18 miles outside of Durban, South Africa, in the
middle of the sugar plantations. We were deep in the country and had no
neighbors, so my two sisters and I would always look forward to going to
town to visit friends or go to the movies. One day, my father asked me to
drive him to town for an all-day conference, and I jumped at the chance.
Since I was going to town, my mother gave me a list of groceries she
needed and, since I had all day in town, my father ask me to take care of several pending chores, such as getting the car serviced. When I dropped my father off that morning, he said, 'I will meet you here at 5:00 p.m., and we will go home together.'
After hurriedly completing my chores, I went straight to the nearest
movie theatre. I got so engrossed in a John Wayne double-feature that I forgot
the time. It was 5:30 before I remembered. By the time I ran to the
garage and got the car and hurried to where my father was waiting for me, it was almost 6:00.
He anxiously asked me, 'Why were you late?' I was so ashamed of telling
him I was watching a John Wayne western movie that I said, 'The car
wasn't ready, so I had to wait,' not realizing that he had already called the
garage. When he caught me in the lie, he said: 'There's something wrong
in the way I brought you up that didn't give you the confidence to tell me
the truth. In order to figure out where I went wrong with you, I'm going
to walk home 18 miles and think about it.'
So, dressed in his suit and dress shoes, he began to walk home in the
dark on mostly unpaved, unlit roads. I couldn't leave him, so for
five-and-a-half hours I drove behind him, watching my father go through
this agony for a stupid lie that I uttered. I decided then and there that I was never going to lie again. I often think about that episode and wonder, if he had punished me the way we punish our children, whether I would have learned a lesson at all. I don't think so. I would have suffered the punishment and gone on doing the same thing. But this single non-violent action was so powerful that it is still as if it happened yesterday. That is the power of non-violence."
Moments later, Gracie responded to that email with:
Was it uphill? Both ways? in the SNOW??
Walk 18 miles to teach a quiet lesson. Chuh! Screw that.
Signed,
Gracie. Mother o' the Year
*Just One Example of Gracie's Half-Ass Job on Chores: One of my jobs was to vacuum the white carpet in our living room...the living room we were not allowed to play in or even sit in unless we had company. But it went one step further: I was to leave a visible and beautiful zig-zag pattern on the carpet --end to end-- to prove that I had done an adequate job of vacuuming every inch of the room. As a child this rule absolutely baffled me. I could see no good reason for the zig-zag pattern, and was positive that it was simply created to annoy me; to ruin my fun; to punish me for not having a wretched, work-filled childhood and for riding a school bus instead of having to walk to school (uphill! both ways! in the SNOW!)
I learned the hard (HARD!) lesson around that time, as well, that it's not entirely smart after mom had had a long day at work and had to come home to a messy house full of children who'd mostly ignored her instructions. ...children to whom it didn't even OCCUR to be grateful for the pleasure of eating the dinner she was cooking --still in her suit, heels, and hose-- to ask her the following question regarding her zig-zag rule: "WHYYYY do I have to DOOOO this?? Is the PRESIDENT coming for dinner er sumthin??" Yeah...that went over just SWIMMINGLY.)
Of course now, as an adult, I completely understand why this was required of me. Had they not instituted this rule, I would have turned on the vacuum and run --top speed-- across the carpet once, in a relatively straight line from the doorway to the window, and been done with it (most assuredly leaving the vacuum cord in a tangled mess on the floor, as well. What...ME? Not tightly wind the cord around the cleaner as is the one and only truly correct way to leave it? Pshaw!), and would have gone right back outside to play, certain that I had done one helluva heroic job.
Obviously, my parent's zig-zag rule ensured that I went against my lazy, selfish nature and did it properly, learning the value in hard work and taking pride in one's efforts and home. So one day, loooong before I got a clue, I was feeling particularly rebellious and snotty and, as was typical, I waited until about five minutes before they were due home from work and flew to the living room with the vacuum cleaner in hand. But I did not do the right thing that day...noooo, of course not. Why would I take the easy way out by simply doing my chores the way they ought to be done? Nope, I decided I would teach THEM. I would trick 'em into thinking that I had done my chore by leaving the correct pattern in the carpet, but I would retain my self-importance by NOT plugging in the vacuum cleaner.
That's right, folks, it didn't occur to Brilliant Gracie until ...oh this is humiliating... years later that I was doing the work ANYWAY...by pushing the vacuum to and fro and making the proper pattern, I was expending the same effort as I would have had it been PLUGGED IN. In fact...I dare say I went to MORE trouble doing what I did, as the vacuum was quite a bit heavier and harder to push without the aid of the electric motor. Ohhhh, I thought I was Wicked Smaht.
Of course, I've since learned that I'm a total dumbass. And, due to that, I feel the need to take a moment for my mom here. And she deserves to have it broadcast publicly, globally, far and wide. And it is this:
Thank you mom. Not just for raising me (and not choking me to death for being such a pain in the ass) but also for teaching me things that I bitched about and rolled my eyes for, such as not putting my elbows on the table, for chewing slowly and with my mouth closed. For teaching me to say "Please" and "Thank You"; for reminding me to sit up straight; to walk with my feet pointing forward, instead of outward, like a duck; for having respect for my elders; for teaching me the value in Thank You notes. For teaching me to look people in the eye and to give a strong, firm handshake; for helping me to see the importance in Attention to Detail, a great work ethic, and how even though someday most people probably won't care anymore themselves, that is no excuse not to care ourselves for things like spelling, grammar, intelligence, reading, writing well, and for treating others as we wish to be treated ourselves. For having compassion for others while at the same time not excusing lazy behavior. For your strength, your friendship, your love, your tough-as-nails self-will, your terrific sense of humor, and most importantly, for always loving me, I thank you.
And from the teenager in me that was abducted by aliens who replaced my sweet self with an oh-so-bratty one for over a decade...the me that wasn't returned until I was nearly 30: I apologize. Ohhh, how I apologize.
I love you.
Gracie.
P.S., That damned Parental Curse WORKS, people. Put it on your children and be patient...the fruits of the curse will come back to you tenfold. Just wait and see. If you tell your children that "Some day, ya little snot, I hope you have a child Just. Like. YOU. And then you will see what I have gone through and how much I did for you and how much we loved you. And THEN you will be SORRY!" And even though your children will roll their eyes and silently curse you and merrily go on their ornery way...just wait. The curse WORKS. They will come back to you and they will apologize. I promise.
Someone Arrived Here Searching For:
why does my dog stink
girls can't go pee
thumbs poop [nuh uh. I can prove it. George stuck both his thumbs out and...he made the poop face while his thumbs quivered and nary a turd escaped. So...unless his thumbs are constipated? iiiii'm gonna hafta disagree with ya, Joe.]
man pee in store parking lot
carrie underwood smells like poop [wow. and she looked so clean. ...and only, you know, mildly pee-smelling.]
marriage sucks
big n rich midget
do polish girls have no ass
squirrels screwing
searching for a sexy wife [ohhhh how unique you are. bet you're oh-so-hot yourself, aren't ya? Bet you don't have a single love handle, beer belly or man-boob on ya, right??]
he sitting tight jeans [the Swiss are funny]
ignorance selfish self centered [was there any DOUBT that my site would appear for these search words??]
annoying nicknames for your boyfriend [Sweets? If they don't come naturally? If you have to LOOK THEM UP? He's probably not a bad guy.]
pee traffic
my wife's boob
smell my farting ass [sigh.]
girls like smelling farts [someone liiiiied to you, sweetheart. We just put up with it because we figure eventually it may just lead to a shiny diamond --of the non-cubic zirconia variety-- Kidding...I'm KIDDING!]
american dating rules
adulthood of kelly clarkson
rude neighbors children undisciplined [I didn't realize people from my subdivision read this! Howdy neighbor! Give me a call and we'll discuss ways in which to ....rid ourselves of this ...problem... mwwwaaahahahaha]
i photograph my ass [I just cannot understand why you want me to know this?]
"what to wear to a hockey game"
"my wife's a bitch" [George! Dammit QUIT PLAYING WITH GOOGLE! How many times do we have to discuss this?? It's not a toy. I swear, I can just see my husband sitting at his computer, giggling to himself while typing these things into google just to screw with me.]
"all of the sudden" idiom [it's all of A sudden. Hear me? All of --A-- sudden. Not THE sudden. Gah!]
(nude camouflage)
dunking fetish [Gracie to George: "DUNKING fetish?? The hell?? As in Doughnut??" George to Gracie: "Yeeeah, uummm...I don't HAVE a dunking fetish? So...really can't help you out there.]
try to stare at this without laughing [done! what'd I win??]
tight pants for working out [so you WANT everyone to laugh at you, then?? Just checkin'...]
credi cart porno film [sigh. why can't they at least have BRAINS while being degenerates??]
swearing mens socks [Actually...I kinda prefer the singing ones.]
freakin fries [i know. they piss me off, too.]
best doggy porn sites [is there actually a committee that judges them??]
do fries go to your thighs [Nope. They just shoot RIGHT out your ass without attaching to ANYTHING. Promise.]
ass is ass don't be so picky [ahahahahaaaahahaha. I love you!]
funny midget sounds
relationship between the characters in the movie grease [oh god. tell me you're just a geek...that this ISN'T a school assignment!]
jailhouse motif [don't forget to include lots of soap on a rope]
dogs loving womens porn [too bad they don't have the necessary opposable thumbs to click the mouse]
we do not have any freakin fries [yooooou do realize that you can BUY them these days, right?]
oops! i'm pooped porn site
I'm pregnant, I have huge boobs, my boobs are huge, my husband loves them [SO glad we got that cleared up. Thanks fer sharin']
lick yeah ooooo
difference between fake and real boobs
drunk woman ay part porn [I have NO idea...]
george needs [hey. this is, like, the fifth time I've seen this in my stats tonight. Just what do you people think my george needs, exactly??]
photos of nurses bound and gagged. [wonder if this is from someone who had to deal with that nurse who kept clicking on my site after typing in a search of 'I'm a nurse and I hate my job.'??]
how long does it take an exlax to work
70s clothing pimp and ho thrift stores and queens
why does my wife fart so much?
nothing but grannies over 70 years naked [is THAT what george needs??]
spanky bottom
oooooh shit
desperate peeing women
brown free poop long poo [hey. no bitching. you should see what i DIDN'T share...]
tonya harding is ugly
fuck you cigarette [i couldn't agree more]
i'm freakin hungry
men are not allowed to talk [you GO girl!]
nude girls honkies
"smell my fart" aunt [what'd she ever do to you? you know what? nevermind. I don't want to know.]
spa sydell sex [Hey! I've been there BUNCHES o' times and I NEVER saw THAT on the menu!!!]
oktoberfest maid porn
no creme pie pussy please [George: *blink blink blink blink* "What? Like people are just THROWING it at him and he's now FORCED to request that they just STOP doing so??" Gracie: "Yep. Through Google...Earth's megaphone."]
woman peeing on jay leno [George: "Haaahahahaha! And how does Jay Leno feel about that?? Guess I must've missed THAT episode!"]
carton porn [only if it's milk. certainly not cigarette]
"jay leno" peeing [...apparently Mr. Leno reciprocates!]
the sound of love porn
Last 5 Entries:
How Much Are YOU Worth? - Sunday, Jan. 08, 2006 Perfume and Lazy Bastards.... - Wednesday, Jan. 04, 2006 Like Poop Through a Goose.... - Saturday, Dec. 31, 2005 Bling and Bullets.... - Thursday, Dec. 29, 2005 Get Into The Frickin Spirit.... - Friday, Dec. 23, 2005
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