It’s Tuesday morning, which seems even more blah than Monday. I have no inspirational or exciting bits of story to share running through my head which is probably due to the brain sucking last 45 minutes I spent reading .diply sites or whatever, that listed other people’s clever tweets.
-But I can’t-
From The Writer’s Almanac this morning:
Lies My Mother Told Me
by Elizabeth Thomas
If you keep eating raw spaghetti you’ll get pinworms, then I’ll have to make a necklace of garlic for you to wear each night while you sleep until they go away.
If you’re mean to your younger brother, I’ll know because I have a special eye that spies on you when I’m not home. You cannot hide from it, so don’t try.
If you touch your “down there” any time other than when using the toilet, your hand will turn green and fall off.
If you keep crossing your eyes they will stay that way until the wind changes direction.
It is bad luck to kill a moth. Moths are the souls of our ancestors and it just might be Papa paying a visit.
If you kiss a boy on the mouth your lips will stick together and he’ll use the opportunity to suck out your brains.
If you ever lie to me God will know and rat you out. And sometimes God exaggerates. Trust me — you don’t want that to happen.
Sometimes I wish I told my children lies to keep them from doing naughty things. Then, perhaps I wouldn’t have to deal with all of the day to day nonsense and life would be easy because they’d be scared…
Yesterday morning, for instance, my daughter, 12 years old, came out of her room and showed me that she had pierced her ear.
What the what?!
Yeah, she had used an old piercing earring and pushed it through her earlobe. Just like that. I’m not even going to go into the stern talking to-freak out that ensued. We’ll skip that part and get to the real conundrum which is this:
I’m going to have to come up with some pretty good lies to keep this girl from doing whatever bad decision is next in her crazy impulse driven life.
I mean it’s obvious I can’t hover over her at every moment telling her “No!” “Wait!” “Stop!” “Not yet!”.
Mom-ing is difficult, ridiculous, scary, hilarious, completely draining and hopefully successful.
Right now I’m just crossing my fingers until the wind changes direction and hope we all make it through in one piece.