It's All Fun and Games Here in the Police State

Posted September 07, 2007

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^{Ever wonder what Catherine sounds like? Listen to her read this blog entry.}

Hey, it's not my fault you didn't get the memo about mandatory joylessness. Maybe it got stuck somewhere with that other one about the experimental fashioning of our home into a gulag. And so you thought it might be "fun" to twirl an enormous box of packing peanuts over your head? Fine. Now they cover the living room floor like a Styrofoam tide. I hope it's "fun" to clean them up too. It's not? Why? Because they're all static-clinging to the couch and carpet and coffee table? Because your idea to sweep them up with a broom and dustpan turns out to be as effective as blowing them or kicking them with your foot, which you also tried? Because of the missing spontaneous hilarity? Because you -- Oops! Sorry, Mama! -- whack me in the head with the broom and then -- Oops! Sorry, Mama! -- whack me in the head with the dustpan? Because I'm in the kind of mood where, instead of saying, "Oh, that's okay, honey!" I stagger around like you dropped an anvil on me, and then sigh the self-pitying sighs of a person reminding everyone about her anvil-headed suffering? Not fun enough for you?

Let's get out the markers then. Even soldiers of gloom like ourselves can indulge in a bit of calm, quiet drawing. Open up that library book -- Ed Emberley's Big, Green Drawing Book. We'll take turns picking what to draw. That's right. You'll choose the page of weird alien Zortians, and then I'll pick some log-shaped cats. I like how you drew a Band-aid across his face. Right. No, I can see now that that's his eye. This is more like it. That's right -- the Pirate's Booty is for everyone. Help yourself. Wait! No! Grab it! Oh my God! Run! Get a dishtowel from the kitchen! Paper towels! Crap. I know. It's not your fault. I should have poured it into a glass instead of leaving that tippy bottle on the table. And we doubtless won't be the first family to return a children's book with the pages damp and reeking of beer -- but still. I'm not sure we're in such great company there. Oh hey -- sorry, library dudes! We got totally wasted and wanted to practice drawing schooners and mice. What? Why is your picture all wet? Good question. Here's a related one: Why is my beer ALL GONE? No whining.

While we're talking about prohibited behaviors, I should detail the remainder of them, although these change daily, so please check back often:

Singing, conversing, or narrating in a weird robot voice or any other voices that involve an alteration of pitch, decibel level, or implied country or planet of origin. Exception to be made for the following utterance: "Zees ees a vunderful Mama!"
The clamping together of your teeth while I'm trying to brush them, even if said clamping is accompanied by giggles and/or merry, sparkling eyes.
Any suspicious passing of gas and all pretend passing of gas, including the deliberate or exaggerated protrusion of buttocks in such a manner as to suggest either the real or pretend passing of gas.
The scattering of Mr. Potato Head's clothing and accessories, including but not limited to his Easter bonnets and Darth Tater costume.
The getting of mosquito bites, especially but not exclusively of 100 mosquito bites in the 50 feet between our car and house. You might presume these to be a nuisance only for you -- but no. I'm the one who has to put the cream on them while you wince and moan about the cream even though, for the last time, yes, I promise it's not the stinging kind. Plus, I am forced to look at the bites and imagine how itchy and uncomfortable you are -- which, obviously, is a much greater burden to bear than your actually being itchy and uncomfortable.
Being little.

And, finally, paradoxically, 7) Growing up. Even though if you were grown up, you might think to remind me of Andrea's beautiful tote bag -- the one that a friend of hers made after that terrible, close-call car accident. The one that brought tears to my eyes, that says simply, in stamped blue fabric paint, "Lucky me."

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It's All Fun and Games Here in the Police State

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by Catherine Newman

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Dalai Mama Dishes

Catherine Newman cooks for the family

It's All Fun and Games Here in the Police State

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