Tuesday, March 24, 2009

The Silly Parent

Something happened with the blender today. Sheesh, you turn your back for one minute and all hell breaks loose! I dropped soft tofu into our smoothies in the blender and thought it might freak the kids out. So to make sure it was REALLY blended, I left it blending for one second while I turned around to wipe/pick-up/trip-over or otherwise "mom" it up. And the thing just spun itself into oblivion. And suddenly there were several cups of blueberry tinted goo around the kitchen.

Blue has been begging to go fishing on the lake behind the orchard. Ever since the last ice chunk melted, the lake's been ringed and spotted by fishers. I understood Blue's longing, as I really enjoyed fishing up until I was 8, at which point my father threw all the fishing gear into the Pacific Ocean (something about an unruly knot in a line) and that was the last time I went. Our landlord gave her a pole yesterday. And I took her to buy bait today:
"You know you have to skewer the worms on to the hook, right?"
"Then I don't want worms."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to hurt anything."
"You realize that the whole point of fishing is to actually KILL a fish, right?"
"But worms are different."
So she picked out bright green, stinky gop.

And then we went fishing. We caught one hand about 8 inches long... and it hurt. And we caught a millfoil. The wind kicked up and we returned home, empty (and scratched) handed, THANK GOD! I don't know how to clean or cook fish. I envision myself shuffling around the neighborhood in search of someone to show me how to de-gut our flopping, gasping fish. I hope it never comes to that.

Everyone was starving when we got back and I set straight away to making another gourmet dinner for which I am well known: burritos. And now here's the surprise: the kitchen was covered in a strange purple goo! I was actually surprise, "What going on here!!" Upon close investigation it appeared to have emanated from a blender in the corner. Suddenly, I remembered it, only it was stickier than when I last saw it. I must have forgotten about the entire thing almost as soon as it happened, and just trotted off fishing! What?! How?! Who does that?!

So, it was a late night, by the time the kitchen was cleaned and then messed up again. Sometimes when the kids get out of hand, I have them meditate. But they wouldn't. Blue wouldn't even sit, she insisted on laying on my bed with her eyes closed. And Coyote wouldn't sit still. He kept running off into his room. And I kept yelling, "It's only 3 minutes! Just come back for 3 minutes!" It was probably the least meditative 3 minutes of our collective day.

They also had this amazing argument:
C "My Great Grandma is dead now," (laborious sigh) "God made her die."
B "That's absurd, God doesn't make people dead." I thought she was an atheist!
C "He does too."
B "He does not."
C "He does too!" The height of theological discourse.
B "Well, maybe, when they're really old. But if they die in a car accident or something, that's just an accident. God doesn't kill people like that. Cars kill people." Very diplomatic olive branch, don't you think?
C "God kills everybody."
B "No, only if they make it to old age."
B "He doesn't, right mom?"
Me: "Listen People, I think we've really over estimated my omniscience here." These kids may not look anything like me, but some part of my brain is embedded in them!
C "Tell he-e-e-er!"
B "HE doesn't," looking at me to get the Okay,-let's-just-go-along-with-the-twerp-to-keep-him-quiet look. But I don't give it.
Me "Some people have faith one way and some people have faith another way. But nobody REALLY knows." How unsatisfactory an answer is that!?
They didn't like it either.
Me "In the way that god is in the series of mysterious and amazing events that brought each of us individuals in to our unlikely existence, then god is also in the series of mysterious and amazing events that will remove us from existence, at whatever point and however that happens."
C "But mooo-oom, tell her: god kills everyone!"
B: major eye roll

1 comment:

  1. Not much to say other than that I love this post. Awesomeness.

    I have such fond memories of fishing, although I too had an issue with the worms. My dad wormed my hook for me all those years (even, shamefully, as a capable teenager)... when he wasn't around I would seriously just cast a naked hook into the water and sit on the dock or shore peacefully. I didn't actually want to catch a fish, see. That would mean having to deal with it, which wasn't that interesting to me.

    I can, however, clean a fish. I don't eat them though. No seafood for me at all. Anything from the water makes me ill. Le sigh.



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