Hirpasms

I like a funny bumper sticker, won’t put one on my car, but I enjoy driving behind someone with a sense of humor. I think I’ve mentioned this before, but seriously, anyone who thinks their bumper is a pulpit needs to only see the underside of a bumper. I was behind a car this weekend with the uplifting bumper sticker that read: “Pro-God, Pro-gun, Anti-Obama.” And had the “no smoking” slash over Obama’s profile, and I had this erri feeling that the brains behind the operation wanted it to be crosshairs but knew that would probably lead to a visit from the Secret Service and some other unwanted guests.

First, I love the idea that this moron is both pro-God and gun, yet anti another human. Nothing sounds more pro-God than announcing you’re against another human, one you don’t know personally.

Incase I wasn’t sure what kind of dumbass I was driving behind; there was another bumper sticker on the back of his gas guzzling SUV; “Bitter Christian clinging to my gun.” Really, maybe it’s time this guy takes a look at his religious beliefs. He’s bitter, he’s angry, and he’s okay with violence. Maybe Christ just isn’t helping as much as he’d like to think.

I know I’ve made my feelings about organized religion pretty clear, and incase you haven’t heard, I’m not a fan. But if that’s what helps someone get thru the day and lead a better life, I can’t complain. I can, however, complain till Jesus comes back when religion is used to forward someone’s agenda of hate.

***

So I caught some sort of stomach bug, and it hasn’t been fun but I’ll spare you the details. My conundrum comes from the fact that I came to work inspite of this bug, and I have some meetings I need to attend. But I’m already worrying about how to deal with the awkard situation that would occur when the “stummy” (that’s what the Kyd calls it” starts-a-bubbling.

Plenty of times I’ve seen someone excuse themselves from a meeting and run to a restroom, but they come back pretty quickly. So you know it’s a #1. I guess I don’t have much of a choice, but that adds more pressure to what’s already a pressure filled situation.

***

Friday night the Kyd had her very first sleep over. Big step right? Also a big headache. I had no idea that little girls could disagree so much, and over such silly things. Who gets to karaoke what song? The wife played referee, and was more partial than most NBA refs, but I’m still amazed that after all the squabbling, they can’t wait to see each other again. I’m told this is normal, which confirms an old belief of mine, there’s not much normal about how women act. I’m going to pay for that one.

But their kiddy drama wasn’t to be outdone by the drama of our guests’ parental units, and that’s using the term loosely. First, her dad brought her over sans shirt. Dress slacks and no shirt, 56 year old man, this isn’t a good look, especially at my front door. Then the next morning when she called her parents, the girl was informed her mom was in the hospital, and told to keep playing. Wonder if there’s any way to put more weight on a 7 year olds shoulders.

So she goes home a few hours later, and we get back to our day. Finally we decide to run an errand, and while getting into our car, we see her mother (not in the hospital) throwing her husbands clothes out onto the sidewalk outside their patio. I don’t think it was spring cleaning, not when their daughter is crying “no, don’t!”

We’re walking a thin line now. We want the girls to have fun, and we know their girl needs a break from that chaos, but we don’t want to become saviors or adoptive parents. It’s just too hard, when you’re literally right next door to that, to keep from getting sucked in.

Seeing all this up close also serves as a shitty reminder of how my nieces and nephews grew up; seeing their parents under the influence, fighting, and acting insane. That’s no way for a kid to grow up. So maybe I can’t have my dream job, deciding who gets to be a parent, and that’s fine. But give the gig to someone, just not someone with bumper stickers.