There is nothing more entertaining than watching your kid attempt a magic trick.
My 7-year-old daughter is obsessed with David Blaine. She repeatedly watches his video “Trapped Inside The Ice Cube of Death!” on YouTube. She’s convinced she’ll be a magician someday.
This morning she runs up to me and yells, “Hey Mom! I can do magic tricks! I’ll make this penny disappear!”
She excitedly rubs her hands together for several seconds.
“Okay….and….here…. comes…. the magic…….” she whispers as she continues rubbing her hands, her eyes growing wider, my anticipation rising.
[sound of penny clinking to the floor]
“Ta-da!” She opens her hands. “It’s GONE! It’s MAGIC! I’m gonna be famous like David Blaine!” Then she runs off whooping and dancing.
I’ve no doubt she will be famous with talent like that.
Let’s just hope she stays away from giant blocks of ice.
My daughter also likes to constantly one-up everyone in the worry department. One morning, we were driving to school and this was our conversation.
Me: I’m nervous about my job interview tomorrow.
My son: And I’m nervous about the dentist appointment today.
Her: Yeah, well, I’M nervous about long vowel sounds!
My son is 12 years old and naturally spends most of his day either teasing me or being completely annoyed by everything I do and say.
In spite of this, the other day I treated him to lunch at McD’s. (shut up) I sat there sipping my sad cup of coffee, watching him shovel food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in years. He noticed I was drooling over his french fries so he said in a sweet voice, “Hey, Mom, you can have the rest of my fries. Here.” Then he smiled and handed me the container.
It was empty except for one shriveled burnt-to-a-crisp reject fry.
After I cried, he apologized and offered me a chicken nugget but I wisely declined.
The next day, still peeved by the French Fry Incident, I made sure to drop him off at the front of his school blasting the song “Roam” by the B-52s.
As he got out of the car in front of his friends, I launched into the most epic dorkiest dance ever seen, my arms waving in the air like I just didn’t care, my head bopping from side to side, the car rocking back and forth. The look on his face? Priceless. Worth every French fry.
Don’t mess with Mom, kids. Because I will always have the power to embarrass you.
Speaking of dorks in cars, this month I did the unthinkable. I got a new car.
Not just any car, but a hybrid car.
It’s true, I’ve become one of those people.
Yes, it’s tiny. Yes, it runs on a battery (sometimes). Yes, it’s made of a few pieces of cellophane and duct tape. Yes, I plug it into my iPhone on my nightstand to charge it overnight. Judge all you want.
But there are benefits to driving an electric car. Of course, it helps the environment, blah blah blah. But it also helps save me money. So guess who’ll have extra moulah in her pocket to pay for the one-way ticket on the Virgin Spaceship to Mars when global warming finally wins? Who’s making fun of the Prius now, huh? You are? Yeah, fine, it’s a clown car, whatever.
Anyway, I filled up my gas tank today — 18 bucks. EIGHTEEN BUCKS. I haven’t seen that price since shoulder pads were in fashion! Sure my tank is the size of a thimble but I’m getting on average 50 mpg! Once I was zipping down the road and noticed I was getting 72 mpg! God I felt so smug!
Granted, I was floating along the current from the massive wake of the giant tractor trailer truck in front of me, but still! And shortly after that my car got sucked under a Chevy Suburban then shot back out ricocheting off several cars like some hellish pinball machine on the highway, but hello! Good gas mileage!
Make sure to get out and vote next week, kids. C’mon, it’s fun!
I’m voting mainly because I’m still trying to assuage my guilt over voting for Bush in ’88. (I think I inhaled too much hairspray that year.) God I love the word ‘assuage’, it just rolls off the tongue and sounds a little like ‘ass’ and ‘sewage’. Which reminds me….
Maine currently has a tight race for governor this year. Very exciting. And by exciting I mean not exciting. Depressing as hell.
Our choices? Paul Le Page, Eliot Cutler or Mike Michaud.
I think we all know who I’ll choose for my write-in candidate.
He looks more than qualified to me.
So what’s new with you? Do you know any magic tricks? Can you make David Blaine disappear?
Are you voting? If you aren’t, then do you have the right to complain? If you are voting, do I have the right to complain about your complaining about people who don’t vote yet still complain?
This marks my 300th post! And it only took me 4 and half years! In celebration, here — have some of my stashed Halloween candy….just leave my Kit Kats alone, thanks.