I'm suddenly getting a gazillion hits from Mormon Mommy blogs but no one's voting for me so I'm guessing all those crazy Mormon mommies are either out there in the blogashpere going Hmmmmmmmm, or that last post was lame-o.
Not even my BBFF or my daughter's hoity toity English teacher have anything to say about Jackie Robinson prayers to the universe.
Soooooooo, mayyyyyybeeeeeee I better pull some favorites out of the archives for the sidebar to prove I have a sense of humor.
ANYWHO . . . Speaking of my twelve year old son, he did two things this weekend that shocked our socks off.
First he decorated the entire Christmas tree by himself, wrapped lights around the banister and put up the village. We were at my daughter's varsity soccer game watching her spark into a thousand tiny fireworks on the field while he was home secretly hauling out the holly and decking the halls.
Here is the evidence:
How cute is that? I haven't changed a thing (except I did straighten it because it was tilted. Oh, and I refastened all the organaments that kept sliding off . And I did shift a few ornaments from the back to the big hole in the front. But other than that, it's exactly the same.)
Next, he talked about sex at the dinner table. I almost choked on a corn chip.
It all started while we were talking about how sometimes kids who are adopted look like their adopted parents. My daughter suggested that it was because they live with each other for so long. I concurred and added that married couples begin looking alike too. "Probably because they take on each other's mannerisms," I said.
Then my son (remember him from this post) who never appears to be paying attention, pipes right up and says, "It's because they swap DNA."
I was like, "DNA Swap? That would make a great reality show."
"It's true," he said. "It's called crossover." Then he starts dropping words like my-oh-sis.
"Your what sis?"
(He just looked over my shoulder whilst I was writing this and told me I spelled it wrong. It's meiosis, DUH! I totally KNEW that, thanks, son!)
So I'm like, "You're telling ME that husbands and wives swap DNA and then morph into each other???"
Then he spewed forth some foreign words like sperm and testicals, thereby causing me to almost choke on a corn chip.
Then he said the "S" word--saliva-- and said kissing apparently facilitates crossover.
Then he said the other "S" word and my ten year old twins were like "EEEEEwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And my daughter was like, "That's uber pooey"
My husband, who majored in biology, confirmed it all as I was scraping my chin off the floor.
Then I excused myself from the table and raced to the computer to tell all of you to choose ye this day whom you will kiss! And choose wisely because you'll end up morphing into him/her.
(Maybe there's actually a scientific explanation for turning a frog into a prince.)
But then, get this; later, at a holiday party, my know-it-all son was seated next to me when I referred to the age and sex of someone. He had the nerve to say, "Geez mom, do you have to use that word? You could have said gender."
"You just used that word at the dinner table!" I exclaimed.
"No," he calmy corrected me, "I said sex cells. There's no other words for sex cells. I can't say gender cells."
I didn't have the nerve to tell him there is another word for sex cells and it's sex sells. He'll find out soon enough.
To top it all off, my son spent the entire drive home calculating how much it will cost to send he and his 3 siblings on a mission, to college and into the wonderful world of marital morphing, where sex does sell. (I mean cell).
Needless to say I had to take a few puffs on my inhaler when we got home.