Identity Politics

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When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a black man.  I also wanted to be blind, because: Geordi LaForge.

When I was seven years old, I wanted to be a little boy.  I called myself ‘Mark’, and my parents let me get a butch haircut and dress in flannel.  (Don’t ask me to explain their reasoning.)

By age eight, I was some kind of genderless alien from the far reaches of our solar system.  (Not joke; birthday cake read “Happy Birthday Zoing”.)

By age nine, I had transitioned back to female because I wanted to be a tattooed biker chick named Skull.  But the only person who actually called me that was a second grader named T-Bone.  (Also not joke.)

I eventually decided I wanted to be an Amazon.  I just didn’t want to suffer the company of other females.

So if Cory Booker chooses to identify as Spartacus, Clarence Thomas needs to BACK THE FUCK OFF. 😤

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My Kid Says the Damnedest Things

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(01/03/18):

“Some people think Peppermint Patty is a girl.”


Watching a video about mammals (01/10/18):

“Aaaah, Mommy!  That sheep just POOPED OUT ANOTHER ONE!”


(02/08/18):

“How come everybody wants to mindhack Captain Picard?”


Playing with lego starships (04/06/18):

“Captain, there’s a space-time continuum!”

“Oh, no! Prepare to open fire!”


(06/28/18):

“So how come [relative] is getting a colonoscopy?  He lose his keys or something?”


(08/07/18):

“I don’t think Grandma has any money.  I think she depends on Grandpa.  I think she’s using him to get groceries.”

TRANSLATION: “Grandma never carries cash, and Grandpa went grocery shopping last week because Grandma hurt her foot.”


(08/14/18):

“Don’t you lose your kidneys when you give birth?  Or is it when you get married?”


(08/22/18):

“I’m not just good; I’m frickin’ good.”


(08/22/18):

“They should sell lives at the store.  I’m talking about immortality, not slavery.”


Grandpa goes over a speed bump, instead of around it (08/23/18):

“And he faces it like a man!”


(08/23/18):

“Do you know what I’m gonna get you for your next birthday, Grandma?  A life.”


(09/09/18):

“If I was a prisoner, I’d want to be alone in my bed.”

FACEBOOK: New Mom Wanted

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We fired my mom today.  She heard the TNG theme and thought it was from Star Wars.

Now accepting resumes from qualified individuals.  Must be armed and dangerous, possess the maternal instincts of Ellen Ripley and the survival skills of Sarah Connor.  Experience operating heavy machinery (loaders, hydraulic presses, galaxy-class starships) a plus.

FACEBOOK: Home Sick

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[My Kid] was home sick today.

TEXT FROM MY MOM: “How is •••• feeling?  Is he still running a fever?  Did you remember to call the school?”

MY REPLY: “I dumped him off at the ER hours ago and hightailed it the fuck outta there.  His complexion was pastier than mine, and he was spewing profanity in about six different languages… along with what looked to be pea soup.  I then called the school and — after explaining that we were both converting to Roman Catholicism — arranged for his school records (including the IEP) to be transferred over to St. Timothy’s, which he will be attending once Father Karras says he’s in the clear.”

HER REPLY: “That is nice. Don’t forget to send in a note. Or maybe I should just email his teacher for you.”

FACEBOOK: That’s What She Said

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As far as my mom is concerned, all surnames beginning with ‘Mc—’ are but a single name, the pronunciation of which is subject to change on a daily basis.

On The List of Things My Mother Does that Irritate the Hell Out of Me — volume XVI of which is due out next spring — this rates just below horribly mispronouncing someone’s first name and upon being corrected (usually by the individual in question) replying, “Well, that’s just how I say it.”

One of these days I am going to change my name to something out of the Elder Edda and not return her phone calls unless she says it properly.