Sent by my bird lover boss to us at work. Molly is a soon-to-be-mother barn owl whose eggs are about to hatch, in San Marcos CA. She's asleep right now, but earlier she was eating breakfast that her mate McGee brought her. My kids are watching this every chance they get. Apparently the eggs can be heard peeping, so sounds like it's going to be soon - although I have a hard time telling from all the other bird songs. I hear roosters right now.
What did helicopter parents do before cell phones were so widely available? My 4th and 5th graders certainly don't have them.
One of the comments irks me as well - although I might think twice about anyone I don't know having keys to my kid's room on an overnight field trip, it pretty much assumes any male chaperone is going to be a molester. Anytime runsamuck used to take the kids to the park, he would get those looks. It's gotten somewhat better since the kids started school, and more of the local parents know him, but boy, any male with long hair and beard (or for that matter, any male during broad daylight at the park) must be some psycho serial killer/kidnapper, never mind that his own kids are right there playing.
The little cardboard sleeve on my half-drunk* cup of Starbuck's has slipped down, finally allowing me to read the quote plastered on the side of it. Some of these make me laugh, some make me go "hmmm" and some make me raise my eyebrows.
This one says "Children are born with such a sense of fairness that they will accept no less than equal treatment for all. I know - I have three."
Huh. I also have three. I would like to know she acquired these mutants - because mine (and most others I have met and know of ) came out completely selfish with only their own interests at heart - at least until their awareness expanded outside themselves. That's what babies do, and how they survive - they're tiny balls of "MeMeMeMe!" - but we put up with it because (we tell ourselves desperately in the wee hours of the morning, when they WILL NOT STOP CRYING) we wanted them and we know (at least deep down, eventually), this will pass.
My youngest, being the only girl, seems to know instinctively how to outmaneuver her older brothers, and get one more cookie or another piece of junk for herself. She's also pretty good at commandeering the remote. If I hear her brothers screech or yell when I'm busy in another room, it's usually because of her. She has also almost completely appropriated the Lazy Boy in the living room, and has to be told to let someone else sit there. That being said, they all are fairly concerned when someone gets hurt and everyone wants to be sure everyone else is all right. Innate fairness, though? Give me a break. Has this parent ever spent any time at the neighborhood playground? While most kids are not resistant to it, it often has to be prompted.
In any case, anyone can submit these bits of pithy goodness (or tripe, depending on your point of view). My spouse submitted "I used to think to that sitting around with my friends talking was having a good time. And then someone brought coffee."
I told him he should've submitted what he said was his first, although ethically flawed, business model - "I need to find something that I can buy for a dime, sell for a dollar and is habit-forming."
He didn't think Starbucks was going to buy either of those. Or put them on a cup.
Want to respond to a cup you’ve seen, or offer up a quote of your own? Go here.
*There's an interesting mental picture - a little paper container hiccuping and attempting not to stagger down the sidewalk.
*snerk* I can just imagine getting the same thing in a few years.
(oops, meant to post this to badparents, but I'll just leave it here, too)
(edit: feed link broken, but I think it must have have been his July 10 entry:
"Right, Dad. I'll be asleep soon, so you'll want to remember to take the tooth out from the envelope under my pillow and put the money in. Er, I mean, if you're talking to the Tooth Fairy you may want to make sure that she doesn't forget this time, right? Well, good night."
I treasure the way our children nurture our illusions. Or at least humour them.
I had gone to the bathroom last night, and heard squeals and giggling, and the words "Bob" and "ketchup". When I came out Gareth was quite proud of himself and pointed to poor long-suffering Bob, who had a big blob of ketchup in his back fur. I took him in the kitchen and cleaned him off with a wet paper towel, while scolding them. "How would you like it if I put ketchup in your hair? Would you like that?" Of course they wouldn't. Poor Bob, sometimes he lets them know they're getting out of hand, and others he just lets them do it. I don't know why he didn't try to get away from them. I think sometimes he just feels stubborn - as in "Dammit, I was here on this chair first, and nothing you do to me is going to make me move!"
One of the things you never imagine yourself saying as a parent. "Don't put ketchup on the cat!"
John just reminded me of another - "Take that pumpkin out of your pants!"
So I have to make good the threat, and we are not going. They were unhappy, but seemed to get over it quickly. The thing is I was the one who really wanted to go. So who's really getting the consequences here?