Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Girls Are Work

One of the boys in my son's class has been teasing him about his girlfriend. If you ask me, this kid is way too agitated to be the son of a spaced out yoga teacher. But then again, this lady scares me a little bit so I can kind of see where he's coming from. She never blinks and she has a perma-grin, but not the good kind of perma-grin like when you are the only one who knows that your husband is leading an international conference call naked or when you had an extra strong cocktail before you got to the party. Its more like a perma-grin brought on by too much Lexapro and not enough human interaction with people not sticking their asses in the air. I always feel like if I stand too close to her that she is going to reach into her messenger bag made out of recycled organic potato sacks and sprinkle pixie dust on me and then I will be permanently afflicted with the not good kind of perma-grin.

My son and I had talked about the teasing and we agreed that this kid was probably just jealous that he didn't have a cute little girlfriend too. When I asked my son if this kid was still teasing him about his crush, he said, "Yeah, but he can have her. Girls are a lot of work." (I gather things are going well with his father's girlfriend.) I asked him what he meant by that and he said, "You know. Make me a marble tower. Give me your pretzels." Bitches. Its always something.

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