Miss Pretty Pretty Palace

We spent about $5 at the thrift store for this house. It had the furniture you see here included. Most of the time, Rose will use the old Playskool people (you know, the ones they don't make any more) and their furniture for the house. We have tables, chairs and even suitcases in our collection. A small Tigger and Toy Story alien are also in this bin, along with a SuperMario car that Woodjie likes to run through the front door with "Rrrr" sound. Woodjie and Rose have some disagreements as to "proper use of grand entryway" in their pristine Victorian home.

Fine Literature

Patrick's English teacher is one of those East Coast liberal types, full of crazy ideas, Patrick tells me. She spouts off nutty ideas in class and runs the school's Native American Club after school. No, there's nothing wrong with "Native Americans," but basically, white Anglo-Saxon Protestant culture is pretty consistently denigrated by her. About half the works assigned weren't even originally written in English! In an English class, that's just wrong.

She's figured out by now that Patrick is a Christian, and a conservative one at that. She has a few snide things to say, and Patrick has a few snide things to say back. When assignments are handed out, Patrick gets the ones that refer to the Bible because she knows he likes all that stuff. We can't really avoid the Bible, she tells the class, because it's the most classic literature written by a committee, not to mention the fact that it gets referenced in the *older* literary works.

In short, Patrick is the God-boy of the class. He takes advantage of this unique opportunity to be an ambassador for Christ by using the cartoon assignment to portray his teacher as a two-headed worm that takes in assignments at one end and um, produces grades at the other. He writes things like "our honourable chairman said..." in his reviews. He compared the current public educational system to the Nazi concentration camps for his "satire" assignment. Obama, of course, is vaguely alluded to as the Communist, Nazi leader of the free world, and he writes about what a great thing that is that teachers will have more power than pesky parents with much sarcasm.

In short, he gets her goat and she grades him accordingly. Sigh. Brown-noser, he is not.

This is the same young man that I got a worried phone call about a couple of years ago. They were studying ancient Greece and he refused to look at the nudie statues, the social studies teacher told me. He needs to complete this assignment. Could you tell your son he can look at the statues? Um, ok... I told him he could look but not loooook. No ogling. Compromise met. Patrick wasn't particularly pleased, but he dealt with it.

Patrick said that he was just assigned a "mature" book in English class. He raised one eyebrow as he said it and told me I ought to look at it. "Mature," I guess, is eduspeak for "written porno that no way any decent, God-fearing American would allow to be distributed in the local library, let alone keep in his home."

My. This book is the most smutty, disgusting, amazingly bad work of "literature" I think I've ever seen. I tried to give it a good chance... tried to see some redeeming literary value in the OVERALL of the book. Sometimes when a rape scene or the like is included, it's used to demonstrate injustice or bring to light some element of the human condition, etc. I really tried to give this book a fair chance.

I got through about 20 pages. Lots of incest. Large breasts. Genital smells as turn-ons. Chastity belts and marital rape. Spears through the throat. I finally put the thing down when it went into some detail about how the mom in the book is checking out her young teen son's penis and thinking about its size in comparison with his dad's.

Done. Just done. So I wrote the following excuse note:

Dear Mrs. English Teacher (note I did not use preferred MS. title, sure hope she's married):

Please excuse Patrick from reading One Hundred Years of Solitude in English class. Surely some other, more ennobling work can be selected that fulfills class requirements. We would like one that does not cater to the prurient interests or is otherwise unwholesome.

Thank you for your prompt consideration on this matter.

Mrs. C
email address here

Patrick had a good chuckle when he read the note. "This is just what she needs to hear," he said with a big grin. "Perfect." He wanted to know why I wouldn't just email his teacher and why I handed him the note.

Honestly? I am giving him the note because he is nearly 17. In a year and a half, he will be able to watch porno without my consent if he's out of the house. He will be able to do all kinds of things without my permission. Patrick knows my preference on the book. I told him, though, that if he wanted to fill his mind with that smut, that he is old enough to understand the potential consequences.

But I am giving him the note so that the decision is truly his. He can hand in the note, or not hand in the note.

I have a feeling that he will hand in the note because not only does he not want to continue reading this book, he will also drive his teacher batty with the parental backup.

Hello, Smiley. :)

D and I like to go shopping at thrift stores as well as Wal-Mart because we're high class. Sometimes I think that y'all would realllly appreciate pictures of "things people gave away for free... for a reason" posts. What were some of these generous donors thinking? "Oh, I'm sure my collection of empty cookie tubs and plastic knives will net BIG MONEY for the local Salvation Army. And the ripped and soiled sheets? I'm gonna get a thank-you note for them puppies. And my 1958 copy of 'Today's Child' that has obvious mould all over it? That's saleable, too. And now that I am updating my kitchen, I can get rid of the 'Your the Best' plywood shelf that wasn't painted quite all the way and is full of dust and grottiness. Someone else will be buying that at a premium price."

D does a lot of leatherworking and likes to look for cheap leather belts that he can remake into bracelets, or jackets (sometimes marked way down in price because of tears or missing buttons) that he can cut up and use to make things. It's sort of a treasure hunt for him to see how much useful material he can gather in a visit.

The big reason we go, though, is to get out of the house and very occasionally, we find some stuff that is really great. Once D found a bag of Pokemon stuff for $10. If you've ever priced the Pokemon stuff new, you know what a bargain that is if your kids are into that stuff. I also am always on the lookout for more Great Illustrated Classics to add to my collection. I saw some of these at the curriculum fair for $6 each and there's just no way I'm paying that. I just keep trolling the thrift stores and when I find these books, they're usually 50 cents each.

Often we leave with nothing, but we enjoy looking around. Sometimes we see interesting people and other times we wish we hadn't seen interesting people. The poor cashiers have probably seen it all and at the Salvation Army, we've nicknamed some of these helpful and cheery folks "Smiley." They deal with a lot, so probably I shouldn't blame them.

It seems every time we go to the thrift store, that one or more family is letting its kids get totally out of control. More than once, I've seen kids breaking into bags of toys to get the things they want out of them. Then they stuff 'em into other, cheaper bags, leaving the absolutely unsaleable crap. It's stealing, really, but you'd be surprised that kids not much older than Woodjie are doing this and not only that, that these little ones are unattended while Mom's on the other side of the store. I've told cashiers about this before, but I don't think they think it's worth the drama to actually DO something about it.

And it's not unusual, say, if the thrift store is selling toy guns, for several little boys to be running up and down the aisles "shooting" at each other and screaming. Everyone tries to ignore them. But I think the cashiers kinda draw the line when the PARENTS get in on games like this and play "hide and seek" in the old ladies' undergarment aisles and furniture department.

"Please keep YOUR children with you for the safety of other customers and for the safety of YOUR children," intoned Smiley on the loudspeaker after seeing one dad play some sort of football and hide and seek tag game with his five rambunctious children. Poor Smiley. She said this about four times. Finally she hung up the speakerphone and just yelled at one of the kids to go find his dad. The family suddenly decided that it had other things to do that night.

"Awww, Dayyt!" wailed a young teen. "Howcome we don't buy nothin when we come to this store? Tha gun was only two dollar."

"I think 'two dollar' could buy you at least three grammar books here," I think to myself. But I am a very nice, shy sort of person who values keeping all her teeth and so I say nothing. Finally, D and I are done and are ready to check out. Smiley is ready to help us.

"The sign that says, 'No discount on red tags,'" D says to Smiley as he makes casual conversation. "It's rather counterintuitive, is it not? If your sale is on blue and tan tags today, of course there would be no sale on red tags. Are people trying to get some sort of sale on red tags?"

"Ohh, yeah," Smiley tells us. Those "seniors" get a discount every Wednesday and they think they're entitled to money off on the red tag stuff. The sign is there to prove that they are NOT getting a discount on red tagged stuff. They really don't deserve a discount on anything seeing as how it costs so much to keep these old people alive.

"They should be giving US a discount for letting them live so damn long!" Smiley says angrily.

I was just snorting about that line all the way home. This is obviously a place without "secret shoppers" and classes on how to deal with the clientele with finesse. :)

Spelling Party

Elf and Emperor just finished up their fourth grade spelling workbooks, so it's time for a little party. We mixed some dough and let it rise whilst we did a little mathematics, covering how to divide fractions. We're reviewing for a quiz tomorrow. We shaped and baked our "bug bread." This picture is a turtle shape by Elf. Woodjie played peek-a-boo and he and Rose coloured and ate snacks. Woodjie made one of the little shapes himself, but cried when they came out of the oven and he wasn't allowed to have any. Woodjie took the picture of his sister you see above, with just enough help to keep the camera from dropping. He aimed and shot it. At the very end of our snacking and clean-up, it was time for presents! Emperor received a tiny Hello Kitty, and he was very excited about this. Elf got a Pokemon book. Congrats, guys! BJU Spelling 5 is on its way for us to use beginning in July!

This Goes in the Baby Book!

We'll file it under "first toilet paper changing." Emperor is getting miffed at me for blogging this and he is saying it's not the first, it's maybe the second or third, ok? Next lesson: remove the paper fully and make sure that it's on the latches so that it can be rolled without falling to the floor. He's nearly nine. I think he is a prodigy. :) Updated to add: he would like lots of comments about what a great guy he is, and he says sometime he will write about me on his blog. That's fair enough.

We Make Good Decisions

Some situations I'm sure no one would ever get wrong... I'm just writing entertaining examples of what pretend children might do wrong. In theory. For entertainment purposes only.

1. You're nine years old and in the Wednesday church class with TWO OTHER children besides your little brother. It's not often your mom lets you out, very nearly unsupervised like this. I mean, one teacher and four students? She's brave.

So here you are. The tiny six-year-old you've been playing with since his fourth birthday clenches his little kindergarten-sized fist and asks if you want "one of these." How will you respond?

Correct response: "Thou foolish knave! Quite the bad idea, indeed, sir! Perhaps you ought unclench your fist and attend to the lesson on 'how to be a good witness for Jesus.' Of a certainty, your mother wouldn't wish to hear of your inattentiveness in class. Not to mention, you disrupt my intense concentration on the moral teaching."

Incorrect response: Punch the kid in the gut, hard, and then tell him, "Yeah. You try it now, buddy." Remark to your mother (after she is called out of church by a flustered substitute teacher who now openly admits her teaching skills are "rusty" and she really wasn't expecting a situation like this to pop up when she took over the class this week) that he deserved it because he was ASKING for it. There was no choice in the matter; you had to punch him!

2. You are eight years old and stuck in a doctor's office for ten and a half whopping minutes. Do you:

Correct response: Obey Mother's explicit direction and stay seated, absolutely silently, with your hands folded in your lap and your eyes forward.

Incorrect response: Jump about and carelessly rip expensive "medical poster" with your silly backward swimming motions. Hum incessantly, even after being told five times to stop. Keep trying to kiss your little sister even after she has asked you nicely to dop it many times and has now resorted to screaming, kicking and doing the big pouty face. (Laugh at the cute pouty face and give her another kiss. Ignore Mom when she tells you to quit it and make oldest brother physically intervene.) Goad Mother into doing the threatening you with her eyeballs thing after the doctor enters the room and pretend not to notice hand signals for #1 and #2. Then act surprised when she turns from the doctor to you and says, "No star," after you've stomped on your brother because his foot was on 'your' side. Snuffle all the way out to the car that it isn't fair and how God will punish Mom someday for being so mean. Fold your arms and stomp through the parking lot, attracting the attention of an old couple who did things way better when they parented in 1936.

3. You are three years old. Mom needs you to eat Cheerios and watch TV for half an hour so that she can work on a Bible lesson with your older brothers. Your older brothers really, really need a Bible lesson. Do you:

Correct response: Sit quietly and try to find all three pawprint clues. Watch carefully so that you don't miss any!

Incorrect response: Jump the gate again and again and again. Mess with everyone's Legos and Pokemon cards. Refuse to go potty when Mom comes over. Wait until she leaves and jam a DVD movie you would rather see (Pokemon creatures make death sounds movie #2002) sideways into the VCR side of the player. Wet your pants several times and pretend it wasn't you. Laugh at Mom's silly notion that it is "potty time" and tell her no while you try to hide. Put Cheerios between your toes and try to eat them. Pull your sister's hair. Fall asleep right after Dad takes over.

Tadpole Hunting.

I knowwww we're far behind in our curriculum studies. But it would be criminal to stay indoors on a beautiful day like today turned out to be. We returned to the same place we went last year in July to see what the frogs look like in the stream right now. They are 3 to 5 inch long tadpoles without any legs at all. I would swear that they're about 8 inches long at their longest before becoming frogs later in the year.

Elf and Emperor waded in the water and no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't catch one in the ice cream bucket. So I wandered in as well. It is VERY slippery and slimy in this creek, and full of trash. I kept thinking it would be just my luck to step on a syringe or something... but you know, every child should have some carefree days every now and then to look at stuff like this.

I finally caught a three-inch long tadpole. Like his brothers and sisters, he's a bullfrog with a HUGE head. We let him swim about for a bit and showed him off to the other people in the park. Emperor named him August, perhaps because he hopes to see him later in the summer. Or perhaps he is naming him after his very fave Roman emperor. He prayed over him before we put him back into the water, that he would be safe and that we would get to see him later. :)