Welcome to a “Secret Subject Swap”. Nine brave bloggers agreed to take on the challenge of being assigned a subject and interpreting it into a piece written in our own style. Everyone involved picked a “secret subject” for someone else and was also assigned a “secret subject” to write about. Today we are all divulging what we were assigned and submitting our posts.
My “Secret Subject” is “What is something really embarrassing your kid said to a stranger?”
My question was submitted by http://www.peanutlayne.com, who also happens to be one of my very favorite fellow bloggers. If you hate laughing, then do NOT visit her blog. I’ve decided she’s my soul mate, and that maybe we have the same husbands.
My children will be quick to tell you that if anyone embarrasses anyone, it’s me embarrassing them, not the other way around. Unfortunately, this is probably true. One of my favorite things to do is send my 18-year-old daughter out with my 6-year-old son for the following reasons:
- I give her nothing but one dollar bills. It’s automatically assumed that she’s a teen stripper mom. I don’t have to be there to witness the condemnation, it’s enough to just know that it’s happening. I’ll walk around the house chuckling.
- The only thing worse than not having any actual authority over a 6-year-old is the fact that he knows this and he knows that you know this. He will go out of his way to be as horrid and annoying as possible. So not only are you a teen stripper mom, but you lack the most basic parenting skills, and can’t control your kid.
- Birth control. For her. And me.
- Blog material.
So, while I can’t remember any specific stories about my kids embarrassing me or saying embarrassing things to strangers, I do have a great story of my daughter taking man-child to see the re-released Star Wars movie at the theater.
My son LOVES Star Wars.
My oldest daughter very sweetly offered to take him one afternoon to see the movie. He was pumped. They arrive at the theater and the first thing he spots is a poster of Darth Maul. He breaks away from his sister and races to the poster. Much to her chagrin (and using sound effects that only boys seem capable of reproducing), man-child whips out his imaginary light saber. It’s identical to the one wielded by Darth Maul himself. Looking over at his sister, he exclaims “Don’t worry, I got this!” He then proceeds to engage in a death-defying duel with Darth Maul. He’s karate kicking the wall, doing these awesome spin moves all while swishing his “light saber” all over the place, narrowly missing innocent bystanders. Only promises of popcorn, candy and soda tempt him away from this exciting battle to the death.
Loaded down with movie quality goodies (paid for in $1 bills), they finally make it to the theater. Now something you should know about my son, he’s never met a stranger, and he’s a celebrity (in his own mind). He will engage anyone in conversation. He waves at strangers. He has no boundaries. He hasn’t even broken into the candy yet, and he’s pinging off the walls. I imagine the person sitting in front of them loved the part where man-child used the back of their chair to springboard his jumping exercises. When he’s excited, he talks really loud. Despite repeated attempts by my daughter to stop him, he started re-enacting his favorite scenes in a screamy sing-song voice. I only wish I had been there. Not sitting with them, pretending not to know them, shaking my head in disgust, while laughing hysterically on the inside.
Man-child has a peanut sized bladder, so naturally after downing his 32 ounces in sugary goodness, he needs to pee. He announces to the theater at large, “I’ll be baack!” There might have been clapping when left.
Of course, she has to take him into the girls bathroom, a fact he relishes. He is practically rubbing his hands with glee. Oh, the possibilities. He enters the stall, locks it, drops trou and then drops to his stomach. He worm dances out from under the door with his pants around his ankles, sporting only his t-shirt and Star Wars BVD’s. My daughter hisses at him to crawl back under the stall, pee and come out the NORMAL way.
“Okay, okay…jeez. Why are you in such a bad mood sissy?”
The other restroom patrons are snickering. My daughter is bright red. My son is cackling in glee. He waltzes out of the stall, pants still around ankles and begins to gyrate his hips in a circular motion.
“See my new dance moves sissy? Oh yeah!”
Grabbing man-child by the arm, she hisses in his ear to pull his pants up, behave and go wash his hands! Heading over the sink, he begins to sing Lady Gaga songs at the top of his lungs.
“Stop it right now!” my daughter whispers menacingly in his ear.
“What? How will I know if I’ve washed my hands long enough if I don’t sing? You have to wash your hands for a long time or the germs don’t die. Mommy will be mad if I get sick. And it will be all your fault. Rah rah ah ah ah!”
My daughter glances furtively around looking for the hidden camera she is sure is following her. I wish I would have thought of that! I really should call Punked. Do they still do that show?
Unfortunately, the rest of the experience was relatively low-key. There might have been some collective groans when my daughter brought man-child back into the theater, but he soon got into the movie, and settled down. Darn.
Thank you Peanut Layne for the awesome prompt. It was fun reliving this scenario in my mind. I hope you all get a chuckle at my daughter’s expense this morning.
And Day 4 – COMPLETE! Check out the other bloggers participating in the swap and a special thank you to Baking In A Tornado for coordinating this fun idea!