Sugar Mama –
Why is that people on vacation feel compelled to dress like they’re on a safari … cargo and pockets everywhere, even at the beach?
Dressed to Kill
Dressed, I usually hate to bog my readers down with scientific blather, but the behavior you’re referring to is actually a serious and growing condition, and perhaps it’s time we all give it the attention it deserves.
Marsupius Envius is the technical term for this disease. Strip away its Latinish sheen, and you’ve got yourself a person who possesses a resentful longing toward someone else’s qualities or belongings, in this case, a kangaroo’s, who – as we all know – is characterized by its sandy color and distinctive pouch.
Sadly there is no antidote for this condition, at least not one that has been approved by the FDA. I have heard of a clinical study called Operation Intervene involving 20 safari-clad tourists, in which 10 were approached by “Concerned Citizens” (undercover agents, employed to re-wardrobe their subjects) in Paris, while the remaining 10 were left to roam in their khakis, uninterrupted.
The findings documented – and I’m summarizing here – that all 10 undercover agents became so enamored by their subjects’ pockets and possibilities of what could fit in them, that, they, too, caught the disease. Some even stole their subjects’ fanny packs! The control group of those who were left to see the sights solo, by contrast, experienced no growth.
So while I, too, am a bit adversely affected by this curious phenomenon, it’s best to ignore these people. Look away, turn around, do whatever it takes, Dressed, to avert the magnetismus of the pocketus.
Unless, of course, you actually are on a safari, in which case, I recommend an extra pocket for bug repellant.
Sugar Mama –
What’s your opinion on inviting the whole class/camp vs. only the students your kid likes to his birthday party?
I love this question because … wait, I hate this question! But I’m asked it quite frequently, so it’s time I address it.
The sooner your kid learns the difference between quality vs. quantity, the better. Why should your kid spend a balloon-filled afternoon in his honor with someone who picks his nose with a pencil? Or with that girl who blames all of her farts on him? Is it because you feel like you’d be judged for exclusivity? Because you’re afraid the rejects’ parents might feel slighted, especially when you exchange holiday cards every year?
Well, I’m here to tell you to take comfort in the fact that your kid draws the line at mucus and gassy odors. You’ve raised him well, BM, and you should respect his boundaries.
The same holds true when he receives an invitation to a mass-class birthday party. So many of us are too quick to RSVP “wouldn’t miss it!” to every pastel envelope with candles on it. First, ask him if he even wants to go.*
Nine times out of 10, these guys are happy to run errands with you on a Saturday afternoon instead. There’s really no more fitting way to spend anyone’s birthday* than at the supermarket, cleaners and nail salon with the one who gave birth to them, anyway.
Happy birthday to the little guy. Hope you two do something fun.
*Unless the party’s a drop-off. For those, he goes.