Raising Them Right!

As a member of a Particular Demographic--"SPA mom," for short--I find that everywhere I go, there are A LOT of cars like mine.

Prii. (The plural of "Prius.")



Yes, we over-educated, stay at home or under-employed, socially leftie moms drive a lot of hybrid cars. With kids in middle and upper school, there are now more Prii at drop off and pick up than there are minivans.



And as a fairly new model, there are not that many different colors for Prii, and most of us took what was available anyway. So there are a large number of silver or white Prii that show up at the front of the school around 3 p.m. I actually had someone who was Not My Kid try to get into my car, convinced that my car was actually his mother's car. Embarrassment was mitigated by the fact that the door was locked so he didn't actually drop into the passenger seat.

I have gotten phone calls from my kids to check if I was picking them up, since a similar looking car had driven away and they were concerned they were being left behind. Considering I have had my car for slightly more than a year, this is a pretty high incidence of Auto-confusion.

So I asked Sursels about it. "I'm thinking," I said, "of what I could do to make my car easier to recognize, so it doesn't look like all the other Prii in the pick up line."



She didn't even hesitate. I barely had the sentence out of my mouth when she had the answer.

"BeDazzle it."

And she didn't even know about these:





Looks like a predilection for sparkly things might just be genetic after all.




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APPENDIX:

For your edification and amusement--some "bedazzled cars" I found online.

My personal favorite--a jeweled Mercedes:

If You Love It So Much, Why Don't You Marry It?

Because while it is nearly normal to carry a deep and heartfelt passion for fictional characters, one cannot actually marry a television show.

Yup. Still talking about Glee.



I had an Facebook message exchange with my sister, the Fabulous Suefunky, and suddenly some of my favorite lines started coming out of my fingers and into my message. ANd the more I typed, the more fabulous lines came zooming out of my cerebral cortex to plaster themselves onto my computer screen. Tell me you can read these lines and not laugh, and I'll accuse you of lying to me, or having absolutely no sense of humor.

Or possibly, that you have no idea what Glee is and so you are more to be pitied than condemned.


"I had a terrible case of athlete's foot a couple of years ago, and had all my toenails removed, so if she steps on my foot. . ."

"If I even speak to one of them, she will Shave. My. Head. And I can NOT rock that look."

"Look, I know how particular you are about what products you use on your face."

"Get me to a day spa. STAT!"

"He looks like an eleven year old milk maid."

"Moisturizing is an important part of my post game ritual."

Coach: Make this, and you will die a legend.
Kurt: (nods) Can I pee first?

Will Scheuster: I will kill you.
Sue Sylvester: I am about to vomit down your back.

Will: You promised you'd stay sober.
April: Yeah, well, but I was drunk when I made that promise, so you can't hold me to it.

"I think those vaccinations are what made my kids STUPID."

"My husband does the taxes for several mid-sized law firms in this town. . . ."

And you know there will only be more great lines as the season progresses. GO GLEEKS!

This One Is For The Gleeks

I don't watch TV much--usually too busy on the computer. But I am making an exception for Wednesdays at 8 on Fox:

Glee.

Yes, I was a nerd in high school, but my high school choir director did not like me at all. I never did know why. So this was not my particular brand, but if it had existed, I would totally have been here.

And not just because Mr. Schuester is way cute.

It's THAT Time of Year Again

Phone:

Me: Checking Caller ID, seeing "Private Caller:" Hmmmm. Maybe it's my friend, the public defender, calling to have me pick up her daughter after school.

Picking up phone: Hello?

Voice: Hello, this is XYZ Inc., and we are conducting a brief survey. If the election for school board were held today, would you be more likely to vote for Pat Jones or Chris Smith?

Me: I don't care, my kids are in private school: I don't know.

Voice: If you knew that Chris Smith sent his/her/its children to private school miles away, would you be less likely to vote for him/her/it?

Me: WTF? Ummm. No.

Voice: If the election for mayor were held today, would you vote for Female Unknown Candidate, or Current Incumbent?

Me: That's easy--current incumbent is a long time friend of ours, so even my Republican husband has agreed to a DFL sign in our yard: Current [DFL] Incumbent.

Voice: If you knew that Current Incumbent had raised your property taxes every year he has been in office, up 38%, would that make you less likely to vote for him?

Me: spotting the political bias at last: No.

Voice: Thank you. This survey has been paid for by the Republican Party and not by any individual candidate.

Me: Oh, reallllllllllly?

Crazy Old Dog Lady

I have seen my future, and it is fuzzy.

That is, it is filled with fuzzy little dogs.

Not just that I have the World's Cutest Fuzzy Dog at home. Not just that I even considered bringing him with me to the car dealership to get my oil changed. (FYI--I didn't. He'd be too bored.)

No, it's that another woman brought her little puppy into the waiting room at the dealership, and I had to go meet him. He was a 7 month old shih tzu/Maltese mix, black and white, and a sweet little guy.




Not the actual dog, but a Maltese/Shih Tzu mix I found online. And also found ADORABLE!


Plus, his owner informed me, she had a second puppy, a "Cavachon" (pronounced to sound remarkably like "cabochon") which is a King Charles Cavalier/bichon frise mix as well. That puppy is getting neutered, and is 4 months old.



A Cavachon I found online. How can you resist those eyes?

And I realize that the only flaw my current dog has is that he is just too big to stick into a pocket or a purse and take everywhere. And that at some point in my life, as my brain starts to go, I'm going to start forgetting that I already have enough dog in my life, and start picking up additional puppies. Because, really, how can you resist puppies? And adult small dogs have the advantage of looking like puppies their whole lives.



Another Cavachon--obviously, I like my dogs fuzzy.

So after my kids have established their own lives, and after I lose my few remaining marbles, I fully expect to wake up one morning and find that I have been pushed out of my own bed by all the little dogs I have managed to acquire.

I only hope that Capt. Sweetie won't mind sleeping on his boat.