Rebel Girl spent her Labor Day weekend in the local mountains doing her best impression of a daughter-in-law, a role that doesn't quite fit. Still, this year found her making real progress, she thought, whipping out a tray of appetizers, two salads (from the pages of Gourmet, no less) and two dozen home baked chocolate chip cookies for the Labor Day Country Club BBQ (don't ask). She also designed a centerpiece for the family table. (Last year, the first year since her mother-in-law passed away, Rebel Girl showed up at the annual BBQ without the requisite tablecloth and centerpiece, thus losing any chance she might have had to win a prize, plus failing Intro to Family Matriarch 101.)
This year would be different, she promised.
She imagined that her centerpiece, which had wit and narrative (a reenactment of a recent raccoon pie-stealing incident), plus solid execution of this year's theme (wild wildlife) would sweep the judges.
Instead, some 20 minutes after the table was set and as the crowds began to gather, the heavens opened and thunder and lightning rolled. People fled to their cabins. An hour later, after over an inch of rain was dumped, the soggy denizens returned to the green to reclaim their drenched tables. There are no photos to record that scene. However, the salads were salvaged and the roast beast saved and spirits were restored.
Rebel Girl, to be honest, enjoyed the interruption, reveled in the peals of thunder and flashes of lightening. It may have been all those negative ions. It may have been her barely repressed anti-social attitude. She was also looking forward to her prize. The rain only made her centerpiece more authentic, she thought. But she was not to win. Apparently, the centerpiece contest was reformed and this year EVERYONE got prizes for their table centerpiece. Which is pretty anti-American if you ask Rebel Girl. Rebel Girl received a picture frame for her effort, which was recognized for its presentation of a current event.
Did Rebel Girl mention that it was HOT? Despite the downpour? Still is.
Kindergarten
Yesterday morning she dropped the little guy off at kindergarten. Day three. She asked him how he liked it so far and he said he liked it well enough but was disappointed that they hadn't gone on any field trips yet.
At the school, Rebel Girl does her best impression of concerned mother and tries not to FREAK OUT over the little stuff.
Grammatical errors in the PTA materials.
Boys in one line, girls in the other. No biggie, right?
Patriots Day assembly on Wednesday September 11th.
The Pledge of Allegiance. (To his credit, young son has already asked his godless parents about the "under God" part. We advised him that he didn't have to say it if he didn't want to. "Can I say 'underwear' instead?" he asked. Five-year-old boys. What are you gonna do?)
How about this: In the lunchroom, milk is sold in plastic bags to be pierced by plastic straws. The "breakfast" prepared for the children who wish to buy it or who qualify for free breakfast (as I once did) is a series of sad menus: raspberry churros, poptarts, power bars. Plus the milk in a bag. What happened to the oatmeal? The dry cereal? The fruit cup?
Don't get me started on the lunch menu.
Community College
Yesterday at our public institution of higher education, Rebel Girl braved the heat for her annual trudge across campus to buy her parking pass. Chunk offered to drive her but she foolishly turned him down. "I can walk" were her exact words. "It's not that hot."
Ha.
It's worth noting that the shortest distance between Rebel Girl's office and the newly relocated Campus Police Headquarters takes her across the green Student Services lawn, through a couple buildings and then through a distant parking lot.
It was hot. Too hot.
But it did allow her to notice a trend that she had never seen before. Some sporting acitivity had just finished and, apparently in lieu of returning to the gym to change, the sporting fellows instead repaired to the parking lot to strip and change in the vicinity of their large vehicles, hovering in the open car doorways and blasting loud rock and roll music as they stripped.
It was a sight. Rebel Girl kept her eyes averted the best she could.
When she finally made it to the Campus Police Headquarters, she asked the young woman on duty if the parking lot was always so filled with half-naked young men.
Sure is, she replied, glancing out the window with a smile.
24 comments:
Did you make the vegan cupcakes?
Are people allowed to disrobe in our parking lots in full view of the police?
That was fun. Keep writing, Reb.
I LOVE it that your family focuses and celebrates its time together! Does the new K-er have one of those lunch boxes that keep food cool? I've thought this over, and I guess I fall on the side of no nudity in the college parking lot. Someone needs to go out there with a camera--wink wink. CHUNK.
Wow maybe we shouldn't spend so much money on locker room facilities. PE obviously doesn't need that much . . . . that money can go to those of us who are more shy (or whom fewer people want to see naked in a parking lot).
You just KNOW that with that movie out millions of kids are going to be saying "one nation UnderDog" this year.
Your centerpiece requires thought. Remember, this is America!
You're kidding about the half-naked students, right?
Canadians drink milk from a bag as well.
I have seen students doing the deed (twice)in the parking lot, at night, behind SSC during the summer.
The first time it scared me to death because I thought it was a man spying on me as he was leaning against the car. I then realized he was occupied!
..and yes, I have seen the guys disrobe after sporting activites in the middle of the day. They are on the far right side of the lot across from the baseball diamond. A whole bunch of them change at once after whatever sport they were playing.
I always say "Hi" They do seem like nice guys.
Yes, nice clean-cut guys. For sure.
Wow, community college professors enjoy parking lot meat gazeing activities - great headline for the Lariat!
Ahem.
No enjoyment on my part -- just slight embarrassment and complete bafflement.
Maybe the instructors of these students could explain the behavior - not me.
I'll be happy to go the record.
I won't be walking through that particular parking lot for another year.
Your son doesn't want to say the pledge of allegiance and you don't want him to?
Kids these days.
A grand buffet of thoughts and observations, Rebel Girl. It's just my bias, but I think your centerpiece should have received a special prize.
The "pledge" is an authoritarian homage to the state. It sucks and should be banned.
for years, I said the pledge (like so many) to "one nation, under God, invisible."
Where are the female athletes changing and when?
I think perhaps the female atheletes show more common sense and respect than, er, their male counterparts.
God's invisible?
Maybe the female athletes should try and outdo their male peers, in a sort of, you know, feminist staement.
Could have been worse - there was a MUCH older man that used to use that parking lot to change his clothes - not after working out - and didn't even try to hide what he was doing. Talk about traumatic! See, I'm still suffering from the sight!!
Funny comparison, but how many times have I said the Pledge of Allegiance?
Ohhh, about one hundred and eleven thousand times.
And how many times have I pledged my undying love and devotion, through thick and through thin, to my spouse?
Once.
Some people don't think either of those is enough, apparently.
I was elected president of a 501(c)(3) corporation, by golly, and when I found out the old geezer ladies actually running the damn thing wouldn't let me remove the copiously redundant pledge from the agenda of the monthly meetings, I quit. After the first meeting. Not even Nazi storm troopers holding a gun to my head (yes, I mean Bush/Cheney et al) can make me say something for the 111,001th time.
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