Kiss My Other Body

Taking a break from heavy, serious stuff, I will now exercise my prerogative to follow in the Seinfeldian tradition and post about nothing. Try to keep up.

My senior child, Einstein, combines words to make new, more useful ones. Remember Lewis Carroll and all his “portmanteau” word combos in Jabberwocky, like “slithy” (lithe and slimy) and “frabjous” (fair, fabulous, and joyous, or perhaps Frappucino and gorgeous)? These are just as great. His latest is: “disgrossting,” which speaks for itself.

On the other hand, Einstein’s also kind of lazy. He will sometimes cut words off so as to not have to waste his breath saying the whole thing. No problem if he’s saying “mac” instead of “macaroni.” But, the other day I called to him asking if he’d washed his hands after going potty, and he said, “no, I’m still sitting on the toi!” We were a bit concerned about which toy he might be sitting on, and if doing so would damage the toy. Or him.

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My Facebook friends have heard me spout on this, but it bears repeating: if you are thinking of coming to D.C. for the presidential inauguration, or you live here too and plan to go, I must ask whether you are out of your mind.

In these parts, there is a new prediction about this event almost every day, and with the exception of the one that said there might be closer to 2 million people here instead of the earlier-projected 4 million, it’s sounding worse all the time. Getting around is going to be heinous, not just on the 20th, but starting with “Inauguration Weekend.” Want to try and use your cell phone? Good luck with that. And D.C. in mid-January? Is cold.

In the Metro section of The Washington Post yesterday there was a piece on residents trying to “escape,” one of whom said that this whole extravaganza is going to “cripple the city.” Today, it was announced that they are closing all of the Potomac River crossings into the city (in part because the Secret Service wants to keep the roads clear in case they need to evacuate, yikes!). People who manage  restaurants in town are going to SLEEP AT WORK, because there’s no telling how long it will take to get there, even if it is very early.

Not that you can score a plane ticket at this point, but if you must be close by, come to my house, instead. I’ll make you hot cocoa and let you watch “history” on my television.

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Don’t you hate it when you get up on a cold winter morning and set the shower to “surface of the sun,” but even as the fixtures are melting, you still don’t warm up? What? You say I’m the only one who … um, okay, so … how about them Caps?

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I have a New Year’s resolution. Wait, I know you hate resolution talk but this is mind-blowing stuff. My resolution is to:

IMPROVE MY LIFE

It’s genius, right? I know it’s broad, but that’s the beauty of it. There’s no way it can go wrong. Any improvement I make, no matter how small, I’ll have kept the resolution. Last year, without even resolving, I lost a few pounds, impressed people at work a couple of times, and cleaned out a drawer (after the sink flooded and filled it with water, but still, it’s all tidy now). I just continue with that sort of stuff, and I win! Y’all may steal my resolution, as long as you pay the royalty. I’m an intellectual property expert, so don’t try and argue. Just pay up. And speaking of IP….

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Before we had children, the hubs and I tried to have children. It didn’t work for a while. I discovered a big ol’ community for us infertiles online. A groundbreaking site at the time was Trying To Conceive and all of its discussion groups, like “TTC#1” for those trying to conceive their first child, happy places like the pregnancy success groups, sad but supportive places like the miscarriage and infant loss group, etc.

There I learned a bunch of useful ‘netspeak abbreviations, like “hpt” for “home pregnancy test,” or less obvious designations for family members, such as “DH” for “dear husband,” or the ever popular “BD” which stood for “baby dance.”  (Think about it.) I noticed that when someone would post that their test results were negative, they’d either say “neg” or use a minus sign. Both seemed awkward to me. So I proposed to Momma Kath, the wonderful lady running the site, that we add to the abbreviations glossary “BFN”, which would officially stand for “big fat negative,” but might reflect another f-word in the mind.

BFN, and its lovely smiley opposite “BFP” quickly took hold and became quite popular. Just seeing it still being used today makes me so proud … but I’d be prouder if I had a nickel for each of those uses. It’s the original product of a brilliant mind, just like a sculpture or a short story, right? Right? Hmmm … maybe I can exploit my son and market “disgrossting” somehow.

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As of this writing, the Baltimore Ravens are still in it. They trounced upon the Miami Dolphins and face Tennessee next. I know we can’t all support the same team, but in case you haven’t made up your mind, I say pick Baltimore. What’s not to like? They wear PURPLE. And they have THREE mascots, named Edgar, Allan, and Poe!

You think those things aren’t important. Well, all right, we also have “NFL phenomenon” Ray Lewis, the unstoppable Ed Reed, and quarterback Joe Flacco, one of five finalists for 2008 Diet Pepsi NFL Rookie of the Year.

Who happens to have really nice eyes. What?

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I leave you with an account of an incident that makes me wonder yet again whether kids in fact are born knowing everything, but don’t have the words to express it, and then forget it all. I think my son Pumpkin could have written some Emmy-winning teleplays if he’d just had command of the language early on.

This happened at the beginning of Pumpkin’s toddlerhood, when he had just learned some of the words that indicate parts of himself: nose, hand, foot (plural: foots). Then one day he managed to bump into a piece of furniture, and started crying. He pointed to his chest, but since he didn’t know what it was called, he used the best alternative he could think of: “-sob- I hurt my body!”

We tried not to laugh, and kissed his boo-boo to make it better.

Pumpkin promptly pointed to the other side of his chest and, still distraught, demanded, “kiss my other body!”

I’m sure it’s a bit of dialogue from … what? Star Trek? Fringe? X-Files?

A new incarnation of Flo from Alice?

5 thoughts on “Kiss My Other Body

  1. I am amused that both your kids and your online “infertiles” (sounds like a sci-fi term) are very very keen to abbreviate.

    TTYL!

  2. Heya kiddo, you have some real talent! I’d be proud to call you my friend.

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    Oh, wait.

    You ARE my friend.

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    And one heck of a writer.

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    Now, where are the baked goods? 🙂

  3. How cool to know where BFN came in. I did the round of the infertility boards while trying to conceive little one . Fortunately our baby dancing with a little help from medicine actually worked !

  4. I regret not coming up with this idea sooner. For a small investment in linen robes and Ginsu knives, I could have charged an arm and a leg for Bambi worshippers to have me burn their organs on a fiery alter before “That One” on the National Mall on Coronation Day. Why do the good ideas always come too late?

    I hope I isn’t using the calendar incorrectedly.

  5. In Japan, Shtuey, the hand can be used like a knife.

    In our fair city on Tuesday, you ain’t gettin’ nowhere with no blades, dude.

    Anyone’s welcome at the hideout for slicing tomatoes, or playing poker, but “whether you are pro or anti, or could not care less,” the political talk will be strictly taboo.

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