As kids we get told a lot of lies, and we don’t have the wherewithall to sift the BS from reality.  Of course, I’ve known a lot of adults with this particular handicap too, but that’s beside the point.  The truly scary thing is, when we become parents, we often spout the same nonsense.

“Chewing gum stays in your digestive system for seven years.”  Chewing gum stays in your digestive system for an average of about 20 hours…. like everything else you eat.

“If you don’t wait an hour after eating to get in the swimming pool, you will get a cramp and die.”  I’ve never understood why parents insist on predicting horrific death to children, especially because children aren’t afraid of death anyway.  This is BS, by the way.  Find me ONE person who has died from food-related cramp.  There are none.

This is one I ran into after moving to Scotland.  “Eating cheese after dinnertime gives you nightmares.”  No, but eating cheese does give you high cholesterol.  Don’t think it depends on the time of day.  Why, oh why do we tell kids cheese is good for them?  Don’t give me that calcium BS.. there’s more calcium in brocolli than in milk.

“Don’t cross your eyes or they’ll stay that way.”  A true disservice to cross-eyed kids everywhere.  Not to mention the fact that most kids I know found this an incentive to try to do just that.

“Masterbation will make you go blind.”  Yeah, we’d much rather you go out and have sex at 12 years old, because that, after all, won’t make you blind.  And let’s be sure our kids think sexual feelings are bad.  That sets them up for a healthy adulthood, huh.

“Because I love you, that’s why.”  Translation: “Because it’s easier for me and I don’t want to have to explain myself.”

“Nobody asked you. “  Now this one was usually true, but it’s rude anyway.  What’s wrong with treating children like… oh.. I dunno… people?

“Who do you think you are?”  This is a really weird thing to say to a kid.  Kids don’t sit around and think about who they are.  That’s the job of angsty teens.

“Don’t EVER let me catch you doing that again!” — Yeah, it’s fine, as long as I don’t “catch” you.  Sneaky lessons 101.

“What will the neighbors think?”  Interestingly, studies have shown that your neighbors, like the rest of the world, doesn’t give a shit what you do.  They have their own problems.

“Sit like a lady!”  Telling girls to be ‘ladylike’ is the root of ALL evil.  Being ladylike usually involves looking pretty and shutting the hell up.

“Do you want a time-out (spanking, etc)?”  Now that’s just cruel.  There’s no correct answer to it.  Shall we all just quit asking questions we don’t want answers to?  Kids don’t understand rhetorical questions.

“If God had intended you to wear pierced earrings, He would have made you with holes in your ears.”  Babies also aren’t born with clothes on or speaking “proper” English, but we insist kids do those things.  Don’t try to con your kids.  They really are smarter than that.  If they aren’t, then you have bigger problems then pierced ears.

“Don’t put that in your mouth, you don’t know where it’s been.”  They also don’t know where their brussel sprouts have been. 

“Stop your crying before I give you something to cry about.”  What the hell?  Translation: You’re upset/confused/tired/overwhelmed, and therefore I’m going to hit you.  Yeah, let’s teach children good coping skills here.  I really want to take a frying pan to parents who say things like that.

“I would have never talked to MY mother like that!”  I’ll bet if you asked her mother, you’d get a surprising answer.

“Wear clean underwear in case you get in a car wreck and have to go to the hospital.”  Why not just “Wear clean underwear because shit-stains are disgusting.”  Oh yeah, because we have to threaten kids with bodily harm on a regular basis.

“You’ll thank me later.”  This statement is usually a pretty good BS indicator.

“You won’t always be annoyed with your brother.”  Big lie.  In fact, sometimes your brother grows up to be a jackass and a sociopath, and “annoyed” doesn’t begin to cover it.
 

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There was this thing, and someone asked me to do it, and then took it back and said nevermind.  It was something about tagging and whatever.  I don’t really get it, but the topic amused me anyway, so I’m going to do what I like, and the cow can kiss my ass.

The question was: What 10 Things Would You Like To Do Before You Die?

My answer was: Well, all the things I’d like to do, I’d like to do before I die.  (Maybe that’s why she took back the ‘tag’ offer.)

1.  Clean my desk.  Oh you think I’m supposed to pick something momentous?  Well, this freaking is.  If I wouldn’t embarrass myself beyond all recognition and possibly blush myself to death, I’d post a picture.

2.  Eat an entire Boston Cream Pie (by myself) in one sitting.  I just can’t think of anything that sounds more decadent, and there hasn’t been nearly enough of that in my life.

3.  Have really filthy sex.  Oh… was this supposed to be something I’ve never done before?  Nobody said that, dammit.

4.  Spend an entire month naked.  Do I really need to say why?  I would think it would be obvious.  I always chicken out around the time the postman arrives though.

5.  Stalk some bitch.  Okay there’s this woman I really despise.  It’s sorta odd for me to despise anyone, because I’m pretty laid back and most people I just laugh at, but this woman really needs a good … something.  I think I’d like to mail her a dead armadillo or something but I’ve watched too many episodes of CSI I know I’d probably get caught.  But holy crap some people just need a dead armadillo.

6.  Find the person who said “Half a million people can’t be wrong” in a particular recent commercial running here in the UK, and smack them up’side the head with a frying pan. (I have some really good, heavy pans.)  In fact, anyone who asserts that any number of people can’t be wrong should be punished, and I’d like to be involved.  I’ve found there’s no limit to the number of people who can be catastrophically incorrect.

7.  Delete all incriminating files on my PC.  This is just a good idea for anyone who is going to be dying.  Your family doesn’t want to find that shit.  Actually, I think I have a box of letters from ex’s that should visit a crematorium as well. (The box of letters… not the ex’s…. Although….)

8.  Spend a year at sea.  About as likely as me cleaning my desk, but it’s a lovely thought.

9.  Learn to speak Italian.  I could use the excersize.

10.  Win the Lottery.  I’d just like to see if it would, in fact, change me.  It’s pretty much my last hope.

If you can think of 10 things you’d like to do, either now or before you die, post them on your blog, and let me know, and I’ll put a link to it here, and you can put a link to mine on yours, and we’ll just have some linky goodness.

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I wonder how the husband reacted to this… 

ELMIRA, N.Y. (AP) — A woman who was quick with the bargains at her rummage sale mistakenly accepted 50 cents for a ceramic turtle with the ashes of her husband’s previous wife inside.

Now, Anita Lewis is desperately searching for the buyer who said she planned to use the urn as a cookie jar.

Lewis said she had hauled items into her yard early Saturday while her husband slept. The buyer quickly selected the large turtle container, despite being unable to get the lid open.

From This Article 

I think for most of us, things like this would signal that maybe it’s time to let go.  Who knows if the woman did it on purpose, consciously or subconsciously, but I would imagine it’s difficult to live in the shadow of another woman’s turtle.

When someone dies, we so often turn them into a saint, set up shrines, and hang on to them even tighter than we did in life.  But then I’ve also found that we hang on to the living sometimes more enthusiastically than we should.  What’s so wrong about letting go and moving on?

I’ll confess I’m not a packrat, and most of the ‘memory’ type things I have, I keep not because they mean much to me, but because they mean something to other people.  If it was up to me, I think I’d just shred the lot.

We cling to the past, but why?   Why is it so important to send a Christmas card to someone we knew in High School, attend reunions, watch retrospectives, plan memorials, and so on and so on and so on.

I think it’s high time we all set those turtles free.  I hope and pray that when I die, I DO end up as someone’s cookie jar.  In fact, I can’t think of anything better.

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Some of you will have colorful, funny replies to that question. Stop. It’s rhetoric.If you don’t count George Clooney and a few select others, I’ve only loved one man in my life. One was enough. Everybody’s nice guy turned out to be a part-time pain in the…well, you know. I couldn’t figure it out. One day my eyes were the most beautiful, my cooking the nectar of the Gods…then the quiet began…not sulking…just disconnected.

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After spending a few days decompressing between the US and a small village in central Scotland, I finally got dressed and went for a little walk – wanted to buy some biscuits (without chocolate–poor me) and stretch my legs. I walked up to the main street and turned right. After a couple of blocks I saw a sign which read “Kirk Wood”. In Scotland, Kirks are churches, of course, and do have yards; I didn’t know they also had woods.Walking down the lane, a man walking a liver-and-white Springer and an older woman walking a Westie, approached. As is my habit, I spoke. That’s all they needed to break into conversation. He introduced himself as John; she is Missrez Mack-knot-ton(her pronunciation.) Oddly, they also introduced their dogs. Mrs. MacNaughton offered to show me the Kirk Woods, so we were off, to our left, down recently hacked and bulldozed 12-foot wide road through the woods. They explained that someone was going to build four houses in here, near the highway.

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