Real Life Conversations with my Boss: Making America Great edition

The backstory:  Friday’s swearing in coincided directly with Middle School lunch and so we opted not to watch the festivities.  In history classes, we discussed the importance of the peaceful transition of power and the historical nature of the changeover.  But we otherwise skipped out on a live viewing of the Cheetoh Kleptocrat’s speech, figuring we could watch later that day were the speech to be along the lines of Jefferson’s gracious and reconciliatory 1801 inaugural address, a subject all of our 7th and 8th graders have studied at length.  The principal and I read the speech over lunch, prepared to adjust our afternoon.  There was none of Jefferson’s gracious reassurance in DJT’s apocalyptic description of America.  We were horrified.

DJT:  “America will put its own interests first. America first. America first.”

B: “Great, that’s an open invitation for ISIS to come over here and cap us in the ass.”

Needless to say, the rest of the school day proceeded unaltered.

Real Life Conversations with My Boss: Toilet repair edition

The backstory: My boss and I have a lot of conversations. Surprisingly, none have made this blog.  This is either due to a stunning degree of professionalism on my part or the fact that all of our conversations are insanely profane. I’ll let you be the judge.  Upon our return to school on Monday, we had a conversation about toilet repair, a subject readers of this blog may recall from 2015.  

Me:  We have two weeks off but my toilet chooses Sunday night for the handle to break.

B:  Didn’t you just repair that?  You people are hard on a toilet.

Me:  That may be…..but in any case, I yet again confront a broken flush handle.  When I diagnosed the problem, both T and JT were cavalier, offering up something along the lines of, “your last repair was never any good.”

B:  An unwise response.

Me:  Agreed.  In any case, I am once again about to replace the toilet handle.  Let’s hope this repair doesn’t come in for criticism or the two of them will be sent outdoors to do their business.  

One You Tube toilet handle repair video refresher course later, a new handle has been installed.  We are flushing like champs.  

Real Life Conversations with the Sassafras Sister: Text edition

The backstory: My mom is in town to help celebrate JT's birthday and since there's no use having a clone if you don't put her to work, she's been busy quizzing JT for his history test, mastering prime numbers for the math test, folding the laundry, and helping with JT's animal report project.  On Friday night, while JT was at a a school dance (!), we ran errands to get supplies for JT's weekend birthday party and his animal report.  We then settled at Starbucks for a cup of coffee before heading back to school to fetch our tween.  There, we texted my sister, who was driving to Southern California for the weekend. 

Me:  Are you headed south? Mom and I are at Starbucks waiting to pick up JT from a school dance.

KO:  We are on 99 [the local highway out of my home town].  Actually we're stopped at some truck stop because Spence needed to use the restroom.

Me:  For Christ's sake, don't stick his head in a trash bin. [Note: once, on a family trip on Highway 99, my sister announced that she felt like she was going to hurl.  My fast-acting mother shoved KO's head in the trash bin at the McDonald's in Valencia, thus ensuring that KO would hurl.  It's a story we fondly recall. Often.  My mother endures this].

KO:  Good call.  I hope JT got his freak on. What time is the dance over?

Me: 10.  We are draped over coffee.  Scored supplies for party and dingo report.

KO:  Ummmm dingo report? Is that code for something?

Me:  No.  He has to write a report on a dingo.  No joke.

KO:  Fucking prep school.  Did he choose a dingo?

(This particular comment caused  my mother and I to burst into laughter and disrupt the other patrons.) 

Me:  It's an under-appreciated animal.  Much maligned.  Also was assigned.

KO:  Keep telling yourself that. Concerned that some teacher might not like JT. But I don't know what other animals were assigned….

Me:  It was random.  I hope.  At least I'd heard of it.

KO:  Focus on the positive.

At that, we went to go fetch JT.  All reports suggest that he did actually dance at the dance.  I'll have to check with my sister to see if that means he got his freak on.

Real Life Conversations at School: By and For the People Edition

The backstory: I've just returned from the weekend's Model Congress events, where students spent hours and hours debating public policy.

Student J:  I think that the real Congress should take some time to listen to young people. 

Me:  Then maybe young people should try voting every once in a while.

It would seem I wasn't my normal cheery Ms. Sunshine today. Ouch.

Real Life Conversations with KO: Bed Bugs edition

My sister was in town this past weekend for a celebration of my advancing dotage (more on that later).  We were in the city on Friday and she and JT had their picture made with some shady curbside Elmo and Cookie Monster characters.  We'd had an earlier discussion whereby my sister repeated her husband's announcement that when she returned home he intended to hose her down in the garage so that she wouldn't bring bed bugs into the house.  I claimed that I was a tidy housekeeper and he needn't worry.  But perhaps I wasn't the risk?

Me:  Those stuffies are not Children's Television Workshop approved. 

KO:  No.

Me:  There's your bed bugs right there.  Should we call M now?

I believe that I sent her home bed bug free.  If not, I'm blaming sketchy Elmo and his pal.

Real Life Conversations with KO: I Wanna Be Sedated edition

The backstory: My little sister does not enjoy flying.  Despite this, she's proposed flying east to celebrate my birthday in a few weeks.  She'll be on her own, flying red eye.  I was thrilled with the idea, though aware that she doesn't enjoy flying.  Thus the following conversation:

KO:  So I"m flying out there for your birthday.  You should think of some fun things we can do. 

Me:  Flying, huh?  You should get some Vitamin X (that's what I call Xanax) from Mom (our Mom also hates flying).

KO:  I don't need hers, I've got some of my own.

Me:  Damn.  Bring that.  Now our weekend plans are set.

Reality check:  We're neither of us big drinkers or users of narcotics, legal or otherwise.  So we'll be finding something else to do.  And I'm way, way excited at the prospect of KO in town to help count my gray hairs.

Real Life Conversations with Mom: I'll Do it Myself Edition

The backstory:  There is a rather famous story about me as a toddler and the very first sentence I uttered: "I'll do it myself."  Based upon this morning's conversation with my mother, let's just say the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

Me:  Let me know when your suitcase is ready and either JT or I will carry it downstairs for you.

My Mom:  It only weighs 30 pounds.  I can do it.

Me:  I know, but just let me carry it for you.

My Mom:  I lift 45 pounds at the gym every day.

Me:  Okay.  But let one of us help.

My Mom:  It's really not heavy.

Me:  Here's the deal, Mom.  If something did go wrong, how would I explain that I let my 68 year old mother fall down the stairs carrying her suitcase?  Totally bad press for me and I end up in News of the Weird.  Let me carry your suitcase downstairs.

My Mom (grudgingly):  Okay.

And then my father weighs in, "Go ahead and carry it downstairs for her and then she'll carry it back upstairs and carry it down the right way."  And then we all laughed, some of us harder than others.  I expect that my mother is plotting her revenge.

Real Life Conversations with KO: Why Bother? edition

The backstory:  My sister and I were on the phone, catching up in advance of the next week's activities. 

KO:  So, have fun camping.  Toast a marshmallow for me.

Me:  Well, there's no campfires allowed so….

KO:  Wait.  Did you just say NO CAMPFIRES?

Me:  Yup.  No campfires.

KO:  Well, ummm, ahhh

My sister has been struck speechless by the apostasy that is camping without a campfire. I can tell that she's thinking "why bother to camp if you can't have a campfire?" since that was my first sentiment when I discovered this insane rule.  But she's aiming for something more diplomatic than WTF and so I step into the gap….

Me:  I'll have an extra peanut M&M for you.

KO (in dubious tone):  Okay. 

I can tell it's not quite enough, but she'll make do. 

Real Life Conversations with Ahmed: Blasphemy edition

The backstory:  JT and I were in a cab with my parents (aka, the Homey Gs, a nickname courtesy of my nephew S), headed from the Seattle port to the Sea-Tac airport.  We struck up a conversation with our taxi driver, Ahmed, and, as these conversations often do, we turned to the topic of weather.

Ahmed the Cabbie:  Where are you headed?

Homey G'pa:  To central California.  It will be hot when we get home.

Ahmed:  How hot?

Homey G'pa:  Well, probably in the 100s, maybe up to 105 by the end of the week.

Ahmed:  105?  Jesus Christ!

And at that, we all burst into laughter.  Really, what else is there to say about 105 degrees?

Real Life Conversations with Dad: Smart Mouth Edition

The backstory: Last' weeks adventures in furnace repair ended with the discovery that I have been somewhat remiss in my furnace maintenance duties. The boiler which serves up the steam heat in my home needed some cleaning and general attention that my friendly PSE&G repair man completed under the watchful eye of my father. The end result of repair number three: a much, much warmer home. It's like the furnace has been waiting for years to serve up this much heat.

I came home from yesterday's shopping adventure to a warm and toasty home. So toasty that when I started to make supper, I needed to take off my sweater (relax, I had on a shirt underneath).

Me: It's so hot in here that I feel like I'm in Florida.

Dad: Yeah, well if we're in Florida, where are the damn bugs?

As they say, the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

Real Life Conversations with the Sassafras Dad

The backstory: Last Sunday afternoon, because Mother Nature was thwarting my plans to paint the porch, I turned on the telly to find a baseball game to watch while I folded laundry. The Mets were playing the Cardinals, Sassafras Dad's favorite team. The Mets were winning. So I gave my Dad a call to harass him.

Me: I see that your Cardinals are struggling this afternoon.

Dad: Don't talk to me about that.

Me: Gee Dad, why so sensitive?

Dad: I can't watch the game out here. Whenever I turn on the television to watch a game it's ether the damned Yankees or the freakin' Red Sox. Yesterday the only game I could see was the Yankees playing the Red Sox. Screw that.

I know from long experience how the Sassafras Dad feels about the Yankees and the Red Sox, so caution is called for, lest he explode in a diatribe about the multiple reasons that the Yankees and the Red Sox suck. But before I could say anything, Dad offered up one more thought:

Dad: The only good thing about the Yankees playing the Red Sox is that you are guaranteed one of those bastard teams will lose.

Me: Well okay. So Dad, how's the weather out your way?

Real Life Conversations in Class

Student E: Do you realize that the assignment says to look for the answers in chapter 14? Because you're reading chapter 13.

Student M: Does it matter?

Teacher Sassafras: Not if you don't care what grade you receive.

Sometimes, I just can't help myself.

Real Life Conversations Between JT and Tiger

The backstory: I'm running his Sunday night bath while JT strips down in his bedroom. Tiger the cat joins the festivities.

JT: Tiger?

Tiger: Meow.

JT: Tiger, have you ever heard of toothpaste? Because your breath could use some.

Real Life Conversations with JT: Elderly Edition

The backstory: Its' the morning after my 40th birthday. JT and I are driving to school and he has some advice for me as I start my 41st year of life.

JT: You're 40 now. You'll probably need a cane and some help walking around.

Mama: Really? You think it's that serious?

JT: Oh yeah. And now that you're elderly, you probably should give up working every day.

Because staying at home with that child of mine would be less taxing than a day spent with teenagers?

Real Life Conversations with JT

The backstory: A friend and I are off to the grocery store on Saturday afternoon, JT in tow. JT would prefer to be at home, playing, but that option was rejected. The drive over to Wegmans convinces me that it may be a less than relaxing shopping expedition. So in the parking lot I decide to make my behavioral expectations clear up front.

Mama: I hope that you're going to behave yourself when we're in the store.

JT (in exhausted, sighing tone, as if this is a situation well beyond his control): Me too.

Naturally, the grown ups in the car burst into laughter. And at least I could consider myself warned as we headed into the store.

Real Life Conversations with JT

The backstory: I’m helping with homework. Phonics is on the agenda and we are reviewing short and long vowel sounds. I’m confused about which words are compound words. It’s a temporary condition, my confusion, but the boy seizes on my weakness.

Mama: Just a minute, honey, I need to think.

JT: Are you saying you don’t know what a compound word is? AND YOU CALL YOURSELF A TEACHER?

Mama: I teach history and government, we don’t really talk about compound words.

JT: Well I hope not, since you don’t know what they are.

Exposed for the fraud that I am.

Real Life Conversations with JT: Truth Avoidance Edition

JT and I stopped by Target today so that I could secure a timer for brushing his teeth (don't ask) and a few other things as well. It was my second trip to Target in two days and I was annoyed with myself for having forgotten some things.

But at least JT and I got to share a warm mother-son moment, while he looked at this box of goods that I had thrown in the cart.



JT: Oh.

Mama (warily): Oh what?

JT: I've seen ads for that on TV and I wondered what it was for. But now I know what it's for.

Mama (even more wary): What's it for?

JT: For when you work out. See, there's a girl exercising on the box. It's for girls when they work out.

Mama (relieved): Exactly. That's exactly what it's for.

Real Life Conversations with a Colleague

Note: Sensitive readers should understand that this post sacrifices good taste for humor. You've been warned.

The backstory: We're wrapping up our Friday afternoon here at prep school with a speaker from the Darfur region of the Sudan. It's a serious topic; one that our students deeply care about. But it's a bit of a downer to wrap up a long week and the kids get Monday off (while the teachers have faculty development), so there is a spirited tone in the halls. We're all a little slap-happy. As we got ready to attend the assembly, a colleague and I were talking about the afternoon's program.

X: I'm going to need a cigarette before this thing begins.

Me: I need a drink.

X: In fact, if I don't get a cigarette, by the time I get down there I'll make the janjaweed look like the freakin' welcome wagon.

It's been a long, long time since I laughed that hard at work. I entered the assembly in just the right mood.

Real Life Conversations with JT, Bargain Hunter Edition

The backstory: JT and I are at the mall. We pass a shop with a sale sign out front.

JT: That sign says you can save 20%.

Me: Yes it does.

JT: You could save even more if you never went into the shop to buy anything in the first place.

There's no arguing with that kind of logic.

Flower Power

As a result of his broken leg, JT's independence has been severely curtailed. That means that he's underfoot and by my side most the time. And that is sometimes a trying situation. Last week, we went to the mall to give his fabulous new cast a test drive.

The absolute highlight of that outing was an incident in the women's room. We went together because trying to pee with crutches is a real pain in the bootie and my help is needed. So we're in the handicapped stall together. He does his business and then I take a turn. The women in the surrounding stalls got to hear the following conversation:

JT: You have flowers on your panties.

Me (cringing, horrified, giving off every non-verbal cue of the shut the f*&k up variety; speaking low to discourage further chatter): Yes.

JT: Only little girls have flowers on their panties. You are not a little girl.

Me (now defiant because, seriously, I don't need censure from a 7 year old): These are big girl flowers.

This response earned me a doubtful "whatever" look from my son and smothered laughter from the women in the other stalls.

My life is endlessly, admirably glamorous.