Sunday, March 02, 2008
When little boys talk
by Jennifer
The battery in my car died Friday, which wasn't the end of the world because it had died earlier in the week and I had the foresight to load up the trunk with jumper cables. But it was extraordinarily embarassing because I was at Jack's school, and I was going to have to find some other mom to jump me off.
Jack's school is a church school. They call themselves a community church, and they're hard core. No drinking or cussing and a whole lot of praying, and they're very good to Jack, who needs a little holy influence. His grandpa--as anyone reading this blog can attest--is a heathen.
So I go looking for Oscar's mom to jump me off. She's a flighty redhead who always leaves her Volvo SUV running while she's inside yacking with Oscar's teachers. Inside I find her and find out her name is Carrie.
Carrie comes outside and says, "Oh, shit, I'm not sure where the battery is in this car."
"I didn't think we were supposed to say shit here," I say.
"We're not," she giggles, "but I keep forgetting. It was Oscar's first curse word. When we lit up the Christmas tree for the first time, he said, 'Holy, shit!'"
From Jim: Jennifer jumps me for saying cuss words around Jack. Looks like Oscar is going to be the cuss teacher? But who do think is going to teach him how to pee behind a bush? What about how to recognize a spread formation? To be very nice to little girls? Catch a baseball, run down a pass, make a pass, pretend he can't hear his mom, climb a tree, build a fort or play in the rain?
The battery in my car died Friday, which wasn't the end of the world because it had died earlier in the week and I had the foresight to load up the trunk with jumper cables. But it was extraordinarily embarassing because I was at Jack's school, and I was going to have to find some other mom to jump me off.
Jack's school is a church school. They call themselves a community church, and they're hard core. No drinking or cussing and a whole lot of praying, and they're very good to Jack, who needs a little holy influence. His grandpa--as anyone reading this blog can attest--is a heathen.
So I go looking for Oscar's mom to jump me off. She's a flighty redhead who always leaves her Volvo SUV running while she's inside yacking with Oscar's teachers. Inside I find her and find out her name is Carrie.
Carrie comes outside and says, "Oh, shit, I'm not sure where the battery is in this car."
"I didn't think we were supposed to say shit here," I say.
"We're not," she giggles, "but I keep forgetting. It was Oscar's first curse word. When we lit up the Christmas tree for the first time, he said, 'Holy, shit!'"
From Jim: Jennifer jumps me for saying cuss words around Jack. Looks like Oscar is going to be the cuss teacher? But who do think is going to teach him how to pee behind a bush? What about how to recognize a spread formation? To be very nice to little girls? Catch a baseball, run down a pass, make a pass, pretend he can't hear his mom, climb a tree, build a fort or play in the rain?
