Randomness...

Just a sampling of the...sparkling banter...that keeps me on my toes around here on a regular basis:


Riley is reading a series of books about a teenage boy whose uncle is killed in the line of duty while employed by a top-secret British Intelligence Agency. The organization then recruits the lad to become a spy himself, and help uncover his uncle's assassins. (Completely far-fetched? Absolutely. But we don't mind our pleasure reading being waaaayyyy fantastical...and also we've got that "willing suspension of disbelief" thing down.) Anyway, Riley's currently plowing through the 5th installment, and it seems to be wearing a wee bit thin with him. How do I know this? He wandered into my room the other day and presented the following Literary Review: "These books are all the same. There's always a bunch of lunatics (!) running around trying to kill people. And they break into places searching for information." Here he paused in his tirade to build suspense for the grand finale: "When really, if you want to find out something, you would just GOOGLE it!" Ah, my young outspoken critic. Clearly a product of the Information Age... (So on second thought, maybe Mr. Cold Hard Facts would prefer a nice real-life biography about...Eliot Ness, or the like...)


This next one occurred in the car, involved all 4 of us, and was one of those simple, innocent chats...that spiraled abruptly, inexplicably out of control. Somehow we got on the topic of "college"--and dorm rooms, and dining services (naturally, after all, Derek was there), and...doing your laundry. (Do NOT ask me how this happened; it's a mystery.) Husband and I explained that students use quarters to run the washers and dryers in their Residence Hall when they need clean outfits. (We emphasized that this would need to happen quite frequently.) There was no reply from the back seat for a minute, then Derek spoke up in a slightly tremulous voice, "Now I'm freaking out, thinking I won't have enough money to wash my clothes!" We hastened to assure him that in fact his loving parents would never allow him to disgrace himself or offend the entire campus by traipsing about all semester in stinky clothing. However, Husband couldn't resist throwing in one last little joke, as he chuckled, "Who knows, you might even have to iron!"


This caused an instant and strenuous uproar as Derek protested, "Why would I have to iron?" I personally agreed with him, given the indisputable evidence: 1. He's a BOY 2. He could not possibly care less if his apparel sports enough wrinkles to look like he slept in it...on the floor and finally 3. He strives very hard not to own anything that requires...well, any special attention at all, truthfully. (That is, unless "wad up and stuff in drawer" counts--he's a Master at that technique!) But (caution: here's where it officially goes off the rails, you've been warned) Husband came back with what he expected to be a compelling, unarguable point, "You might have to go to a Sorority Dance sometime!" Complete. Silence. Then the explosion--"A WHAT? What the heck is a sor--whatever you said? And why would I want to DANCE with one?" Neither Husband nor I was immediately available to enlighten him, as we were both roaring with laughter (and I was also engaged in the minor task of staying on the road). But then, unable by nature to leave him hanging with a question unanswered, we tried to explain, (I started us off) "Well, sororities and fraternities are like clubs, and they have activities, and sometimes there's a dance, and you might want to take a girl, and she'd wear a formal dress, and you'd wear a suit...and (Husband triumphantly concluded) you'd have to iron your shirt!"


Well...suffice it to say Derek was utterly horrified by the sudden turn this discussion had taken. In one fell swoop, we'd managed to describe a plethora of thing that make him cringe: girls, dress clothes, household chores...and dancing. He was already (thankfully) supremely disinterested in the Fairer Sex at this point anyway, but with this (accidental) strategic Parental Teaching Moment, we may have just succeeded in putting him off of dating well into the foreseeable future. Win!