The Next Larry Flynt?

Since the beginning of time, parents day dream about what their children will do for a living.  Will they be a doctor, police officer, tycoon or even a preacher.  A mother can only hope.  The Babe wanted to see want this whole kindergarten thing was about that brother keeps talking about.  In an effort to placate his curiosity, The Dad took The Babe to lunch with The Kindergartner the other day.  For those that are not privy to the inner workings of the elementary school lunch room these days, it hasn't changed since you were there.  Apparently The Dad was sitting with his boys at a long narrow lunch room table with about 20 other kindergarten aged kids the other day.  On this particular day, the lunch time convo steered toward the topic of movies.  In an attempt to include The Babe in the lunch time banter, a boy asked The Babe what kind of movies he liked to watch.  The Babe, without hesitation, looked at that boy and told him "I like movies that show ladies private parts".

WHAT THE?!

The Dad seems to think The Babe forgot The Dad was present.  As the table was recovering from the response to The Babe's declaration (apparently the group thought this was quite hilarious), The Dad looked at The Babe with surprise (what the...where...who...).  The Babe knew he was busted.  As his eyes welled up with tears he placed his head in his hands.

I got a call from The Dad the night of what I now call the "incident".  Although we were able to laugh about it, and I was able to say "better you than me", I had a number of thoughts swirling in my head:

• This is not one of those funny kid stories I can retell.  Think about it; if I retell this story people will wonder what in the hell I am letting my kids watch on TV.


• Why on earth would he say that?  Has he seen movies like this.  With whom?  Where?


• Well, I guess I know what he will do for a living.  Yay me...lifetime supply of adult entertainment.  As long as he is happy I guess.

 

Everything I need to know, I learned on the first day of Kindergarten

Last week I experienced one of many firsts; the first born started Kindergarten.  As you can imagine, it was a very exciting day for all of us.  The Kindergartner didn't think it was all that big of a deal really.  After all, he had been going to "school" for some time now.  In his mind, it was just a new building and new teacher.  The kid was calm, cool and collected.

The Kindergartner and I entered the cafeteria at the school with The Dad.  We were met by the soon to be step-mom and her daughter that is in fifth grade at the same school.  This was basically command central.  The principal welcomed all the new and returning students and offered some general info.  As The Dad and I walked The Kindergartner to his classroom, The Step Mom and Step Sis walked behind us.  The Dad and I held hands with The Kindergartner, at which time he tried to get The Dad and I to hold hands.  Ugh.  I play it off with desensitizing statements like "gross, your dad has cooties", and "that is The Step Mom's hand to hold, not mine".

We enter the classroom together and begin the transition.  Pictures, hugs, "I'm so proud of you", "have a great day".  The usual.  I asked The Dad if he would like me to take a picture of the three of them together.  He accepts.  He takes one of me and my big kid.  We all say goodbye and go our separate ways.

I had heard stories about moms and dads that get emotional on the first day of school for their first born.  I understand why.  I, however, was not emotional during this transitional moment.  That is, not until I got in the car to go to work.  It wasn't like someone turned on the facet full speed.  It was more like when you turn off the facet but you still have a slow drip.  As I sat in the parking lot of the school, I realized something.  I realized I was doing something right.    The Kindergartner has a lot of people in his life that love him and want what's best for him.  Although it sucks to see him loving on another woman like he does The Step Mom, it illustrates that he knows he can love both of us.  We were all there for him on his big day.  Together. Co-parenting.  I am not sure with whom I was more proud, The Kindergartner or us.