Micro -space- Biotics.
What a smart kid I have, studying ‘Micro -space- Biotics’.
Any mother would be proud.
Especially when she was, like, seven.
Or eight… she might have been eight.
And keeping all her scientific-y notes in a lavender notebook with pretty little purple polka dots on the inside cover?
Not a science notebook.
It’s a diary, yo.
Breaking Bad flashback there. Gawd I miss binge watching that show.
So one of the last times that Mac was home, and we were all sitting around in the family room getting ready to watch a movie – after she and Half-Kid-Jack were cleaning her room upstairs – she whipped this puppy out.
She started with the cover, which she specifically designed to throw me off if I ever came across it (because what Mom would not look past the cover of a lavender diary entitled ‘Macro -space- Biotics’?).
And then she opened it and started reading, and I realized right then and there that my kid had indeed already written a book about me!
I have lived my entire parenting career to this date with one, very specific goal in mind: Give them no reason to write a book about me.
And now my methodology is totally shot.
I can never say – ever again – “Well, at least they didn’t write a book about me.”
Really wHierd feeling, that.
The following is an excerpt of seven-year-old Mackenzie Dingle’s tell-all book. But first, you will require a definition of a term used by cherubs all the time, in and around Boston.
Hosie: (Ho-see, v.): To call dibs on. Totally outranks ‘I call it’, ‘dibs’ and ‘shotgun’. Used in a sentence: ‘I hosie the comfy chair!’
One cannot dispute a hosie.
So, with that said, and without further ado…
Oh, also, I should say that this is her first book (because who knows):
Proof of Why Mom Favors Gabe >And Sam< More Than Me
by June Mackenzie Dingle (‘Mac’); Age 7 or 8
editors note: “And Sam” is inserted, as if in an afterthought, with a carrot symbol. Clearly Gabe was the primary example, but she totally looks more like a complete victim having carroted Sam in.
2. I hosied front (referring to seat in car) and Sam said that he should get front because he never gets front first. But he always gets it second no matter what so basically we get it equally! ANYWAY (all caps)… she just gives it to him and gets mad at me because I am being “unfair”. It’s not my fault that he is a slow hosier.
3. I took a piece of paper that Sam was using because he wouldn’t tell me something and he starts yelling and screaming at me and then starts tearing, punching and kicking and climbing on me. OVERREACTION!!! (yep, all caps again…this time with many exclamation points….wonder where she gets that!!!). Then Mom comes in and basically says “what did you do, Mac.”! So I explained it and then she went to Sam and he got in trouble. Even though Sam got in trouble, the point is that she pointed at me first.
4. In Musam (sic) of Science in gift shop. Gabe gets all whiny and babyish because he can’t get this toy. Mom just tries to make him laugh and feel better. Even though he didn’t get the toy, if I did that mom would probably get me in really big trouble.
5. Waiting in line for LOTR (Lord Of The Rings) exhibit and Gabe gets all whiny and babyish again because he is tired and doesn’t want to see exhibit and says it’s stupid. Mom just starts trying to make him laugh and feel better. She would have said to me Deal with it.
6. It is supper time and Gabe said he didn’t want coleslaw on his plate cause he didn’t like it. Mom said that every time he said that, he would always take hers, so she put some on (his plate). When she gave it to him he whined, “Mom, I said I didn’t want it on my plate!” Now, if it were me my Mom would have said fine don’t eat it but instead she said sorry and started eating it (for him).
Oh, the freakin’ humanity.
You can image how much sympathy nearly-22-year-old Mac did not get as she read this to us, out loud.
We were dying (and, in full disclosure, she was laughing right along with us… though periodically defending her position).
When she was done, after all the snorts, wheezes, and chortles, I told her I needed to post it as a blog entry and she said ‘sure!’.
And then, mysteriously, neither she nor Half-Kid-Jack could find the diary again when I wanted to post it.
I sent them all over to look and they “could not find it”.
But today, with some good Mom sleuthing, I in fact, did find it.
And – just as when she was 9 years old and I accidentally came across it in her bedroom …
The title didn’t fool me for a second.
Thanks for readin’.
As always, you can come on over to Just Ponderin’s Facebook page to comment or just hang out.