We've had an exciting few weeks. The weekend before last my dad and I ran the Monument Ave. 10k, very, very slowly. Ben went to Atlantic City and has only recently stopped coughing up stripper glitter. Just kidding, I have yet to spot a speck of glitter. Maybe strippers are using something new now. I don't know, not my field. Last weekend Henry, my mom and I packed up and headed to Delaware for one of my cousin's bridal showers.
There are a few things you need to understand about my family to make any of my posts about them make sense. One is that there are a lot of us. My dad has eight brothers and sisters, and they all have at least two kids. Now it's come about that the kids are having kids (not together, we're Delaware, not West Virginia). So there are even more of us, and some more on the way, and weddings are always happening and always very, very fun, though they can produce epic hangovers.
But this was the first time that the extended family got to meet Henry, so I was excited. He was a total charmer, grabbed lots of boobs, and ate anything anyone placed near his mouth. And of course, everyone talked about how cute he was. That happens a lot when you have a kid and I'm never sure how to feel about it. Not because I don't think he's cute-I do, I think he's the cutest kid to ever be born, but I know that every mom feels that way. His day care teachers are pushing me to put him in "cutest baby" contests, but I just can't, for many reasons.
1. I think those contests are pageanty and creepy.
2. I'm pretty sure for what I pay them a week his day care teachers are contractually obligated to tell me my kid is the cutest kid that ever was.
3. If he didn't win, then someone would be implying that he ISN'T the cutest kid who ever was, and I'd have to punch someone.
I don't know, I've managed to get this far without a felony and a prison tattoo, I think I'll just keep that trend going.
So we saw the family for not enough time, because my mom got jumpy and wanted to get moving. We had decided to take Henry to the National Aquarium in Baltimore on Sunday. We showed up and wandered through, he loved it-particularly the dolphins. We were sitting by the tank watching them swim by and play when a family sat down next to us.
The mom of said family started asking "Why do they go to the surface? I mean, they're fish! Why are they jumping?"
The husband offered a few lame explanations and they basically got into a fight about fish and how they live.
I generally do not get into other people's conversations but I felt the stupidity of this one was reaching a point where it might affect MY kid. I mean, even he was looking at them like they were stupid. I finally said "Dolphins are mammals. They breathe oxygen, they have to go to the surface."
The mom looks at me and says, I swear to God, "If they're mammals, why do they live in the ocean?"
And then proceeds to ask if they can hold their breath longer than humans and if that's "why they live so close to the surface."
I don't know how she is allowed to get a license or vote, because I was pretty sure this was one of the things covered in third grade science, but she really kept asking these questions. Every time I answered her, the husband would repeat what I'd just said, like he'd known the answer all along.
Ben and I debated who'd seen more stupidity-me in that scenario or him in Atlantic City. Pretty sure I won.
But now we're home, and on Sunday, Henry seemed to sense that there was no longer an audience to impress with good behavior. Ben put him in his high chair and he looked at us, screamed, and kicked the tray off onto the floor. His expression said "There's no company to impress now. Show's over, bitches."
The sad thing is, he's so good around other people that no one ever believes me. Not Henry, that perfect angel!
Right.
God I needed a good laugh. Thank you! The dolphin ignorami did the trick. I will try to think about this the next time my MIL puts yet another plate cheesy milky creamy whatever in front of me and them brings me ice cream. I swear she thinks lactose intolerance just means I don't drink milk. I'm so bloated I could float home in a personal zeppelin powered ny my own emissions. And in that TMI mote, I will say - you are awesome! :) Hugs
ReplyDeleteMe being vegetarian means I still eat venison and other "not beef/chicken/pork" meats, according to most everyone, including my family. My mother has known I'm vegetarian since I started when I was 15, and she still says things like, "You can put chicken stock in that, right? Here."
ReplyDeleteP.S., I would have totally done what you did in the dolphin situation. That is seriously frightening.
(Leslie)