Friday, August 20, 2010

Out of Context

Every year the night before school is an open house/ice cream social where the kids and parents can meet the teachers, unload the backhoes of school supplies, and snarf down a little frozen dairy goodness before the chaos is unleashed.

It's fun to see the kids' excitement as they find their friends and catch up on who's in whose class, what they did over the summer and details such as how exactly they broke their arm.

Seth hardly ever gets to go since it coincides with his last hour of work, so Tuesday night he was trying to get the 411 from the kids at the dinner table (which ended up to be a very late supper that night).

"Didja get the teacher you wanted, Kels?"

"Not really...." she paused.  Then very emphatically, she said, "I just wish she had some balls!"

It made me snort a little, the look on Seth's face.

"Well, ok, then?  Is she that much of a pushover?"  He asked, clearly on a different page than the one Kelsey and I were on.

"What?!?" she asked in the rare, but occasional 'dumb-blonde' tone of but I don't get it.

He went on to explain what a pushover was and she was still blank.

"But, Dad-deeeee, I know what a pushover is - I just don't get why you'd say that because she doesn't have balls, though."

I could have intervened, but the humor of it all was cracking me up.

Suddenly, it dawned on my daughter that she and her dad had entirely different pictures in their minds, thus she said, exasperated, "Dad!!!!!  I meant exercise balls - you know, to sit on??  Instead of a chair?!!  The other 4th grade teachers have balls but mine doesn't and it's not really fair because that would help* me."

* it's a sensory thing.

And then all that humor tension climaxed into a fit of laughter at our table.

******
Completely unrelated, save for the out of context theme....

I've been curling my hair for a little something different lately - contemplating a body perm, but that just wigs me out (pun intended - me so cheesey) and makes me think of the aforementioned fashion crimes of the 80s.

The other day I was curling my hair before church and Christopher was walking around the bathroom.  He was babbling and messing with his hair when I realized that he too was 'curling' his hair.  With a wrapped (read: unused and perfectly sterile) tampon!

Oh dear, that one had me laughing for awhile too..
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

1 comment: