Sunday, November 18, 2012

I don't understand zombies.

I totally love having my back massaged.

So, LUCKY SHAWN, whenever he is in his Calgary-Flames-Barfed-In-Here-Man-Den, kicking back in his leather recliner, watching his PVR and trying to relax, I slink quietly to the door, stand there super-quiet til he notices me, then I tilt my head all cute-like and open my eyes super wide and say in a super sweet and adorable voice, "will you pleeeeeeease rub my back?"  (I love that I say it's all "cute".  In reality I probably look like I'm having a stroke.)

Anyway, because he loves me and actually thinks I AM sweet and adorable (OK, it's either that or the fact that he knows damn well I'm not going anywhere til I get what I want, it's just a fight he won't win), he says "ugh.  Fine.  Sit down."  And he straightens up that fancy recliner and I sit on the floor and he rubs my shoulders.

Now, this obviously works for me, I get my massage, BUT the trade-off is that I have to watch some stupid show of his, like Family Guy or Game of Thrones or that new one he only watches because the hot girl from "Chuck" is in it, or that one with the zombies in jail.

Yeah, Walking Dead.  That's it.

So that's the one that was on tonight.

Me: "I don't get this.  Is he a zombie?"

Shawn: "Does he LOOK like a zombie?"

Me: "Well how the hell would I know what a zombie looks like?"

Shawn: "Zombies are dead.  It looks like a gross dead person."

Me: "Well that's stupid, why don't they make it so they can morph into something super hot, like on True Blood?"

Shawn: "Because this is not True Blood.  Now shut up."

I'm quiet for a minute.  But then I can't help myself.

Me: "Is that baby a zombie?"

Shawn: "NO!!  STOP TALKING!"


Shawn: "Why would I give you a bunch of detail about a show you don't care about??!"

Me: "I do care!!  Are they in jail?"

Shawn (with a MAJOR eyeroll, my back was to him but I could totally feel it): "Yes.  Zombie jail."

Me: "Do the zombies walk amongst the living?"

Shawn: "I mean it, STOP. TALKING. NOW."

I'm quiet again.

Me: "What is that guy doing in the jail?  Or lady?  Is that a man or a lady?"

Shawn (sighing in defeat, clearly I'm not shutting up.  Once again, I win): "It's a lady.  She is not a zombie.  The zombies don't know she's human because she is covered in zombie blood."

Me: "...what the hell!  This show is stupid!  Why doesn't EVERYONE just cover themselves in zombie blood, then they'd all be safe from the zombies and everyone could coexist peacefully!!!!"

That's about the time my massage ended.

I don't think the big eyes and cute voice are going to work next time.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

The jig is up...maybe??

WARNING.  DO NOT LET YOUR CHILDREN READ THIS POST.  I mean, really, it's a bit weird if you let your kids read my blog anyway, but whatevs, it's your choice, I'm not here to judge.  I am saying, though, REPEAT:  DON'T LET THEM READ THIS ONE.

OK?  We're good?


So, we're walking to school yesterday morning, and out of the blue, AJ says, totally matter-of-factly: "You know, Santa's not real."

Mackenzie: "OH MY GOD SHUT UP YES HE IS!!!!!!!!!"

Me: "Uh, wow, look, there's a...hmmm...uh, big piece of dog poo!!!!!"

AJ: "Seriously.  He's not real."


Me (because obviously the poo distraction isn't working): "OK, AJ, what makes you say Santa isn't real?"

AJ: "There's no way he can do it.  The only way he could possibly work is by magic, and magic is NOT real."

Me (totally floundering here, Mackenzie looks horrified and AJ looks super sure of himself and I am totally taken by surprise and am not sure what the hell to say): "Well, OK, but don't you believe in the magic of Christmas?  I know I do!"

AJ: "Well, you shouldn't believe in magic, because magic is totally fake."

Then, THANK GOD, he saw a little buddy of his getting out of their vehicle and he took off running.

He hasn't mentioned the whole Santa thing again, but I know my kid, and I know that he was dead serious.  I was blessed with (cursed with???) an extremely logical-minded child, and he is well aware that magic is a ruse.  He knows it's not real, that magic is just tricks.  And so saying that Santa is "magic" just doesn't cut it.  He needs a better explanation than that.  He also understands that the world is a big place.  He knows it takes us all day just to get to Arizona, that our friends from Australia are from the 'other side of the world', that his Grandpa lives alllllllll the way in how the hell would Santa possibly get to every single kid in the world in one night?  He has Muslim friends in his class who don't get visits from Santa. He knows that reindeer can't fly (unlike his mother, who, for an embarrassingly long time, thought that reindeer were fictional characters, like unicorns).  And he knows that nobody in their right mind would ACTUALLY try to fit themselves down a chimney.

The super-secure hiding of the presents, the Santa-only wrapping paper that also needs to be very well-hidden, trying to explain why Santa will NOT be bringing you a pony/a baby sister/a fancy convertible/your very own much as it would make my life easier for the whole Santa deal to be blown wide open (my kids will still get presents from Santa for as long as they live in this house), he's only 6.  I have no intention of confirming or denying anything at this point, but I'm not sure I'm ready for him to totally stop believing.

Ideas?  Help me!