Not a damn thing. Folks need to get over it. (Or stop doing stupid stuff to cause the face. 😄)
Here’s a handy decoder:
“Oh you think so, do you? FAFO.”“Let me get this straight.”“Bitch, please.”“I’m laughing at you, not with you.”“Come on, now.”“This MFer.”“Do tell.”“I’m just going to look down at my notes, because my face has nothing nice to say.”“Oh, honey. I actually feel sorry for you.”
Now let’s test your knowledge. What is my face saying to you?
A. This bar is great. B. The decor is unique. C. I found love in a hopeless place. D. I want to murder this man who sat four inches from me despite the fact that there were 10 empty seats at the bar.
If you said D, then winner, winner, chicken dinner!
Whatever you do, don’t be this guy:
It’s misogynistic and akin to “you should smile more.” Frank, how ’bout you train yourself to STFU.
If you need it, here’s a dude saying roughly the same thing:
It’s an extra layer of communication. Useful, I’d say.
I mean, just think about how moms operate. All you needed was THE LOOK from your mom, and you stopped your buffoonery immediately.
In retrospect, I should amend my first line. I do not “suffer” from FAFO Face. I actually celebrate it! I have the ability to communicate effectively without words.
I deliberately scheduled a limited-drive day. I figured we road warriors would need a break.
Merle in repose
The scenery from Cody into Yellowstone is SPECTACULAR. That’s why people make the trek.
Leo, of course, could not be bothered.
What a life.
On this journey, we have seen flora, but not fauna. So when we finally saw bison, we lost our minds.
Like Leo, the bison were completely unconcerned about our existence.
I really expected to see more critters. Maybe the rangers still have them locked up.
See? Dipshits abound.
We set up camp at the Yellowstone Fishing Bridge RV Park. We did laundry. Made lunch. Walked to said Fishing Bridge.
Gee, they aren’t related AT ALL. /sUm …
Photos do not do this place justice. The word “breathtaking” doesn’t do it justice. Yellowstone is one of those places you really have to see for yourself.
But beware of sticky tar-like substances that resist removal efforts.And birds practicing target practice.
I tried to upload my blog post, but service was spotty. Huge national park. Nature. Go figure. 😉
Dominic, a typical teenager, was bothered by the lack of connectivity.
“What am I supposed to do? ENJOY NATURE?”
All kidding aside, it is beautiful, and we did need to disconnect.
It may or may not be a surprise, but Dominic made it to and through graduation.
During COVID, he just checked out of school. (Let’s be honest: He wasn’t exactly a star student before COVID either.) He just wouldn’t turn things in. He’d procrastinate until the very end then scrape by.
“So what are his plans now?”
Many, many people have asked. If I had a dollar for every time … well, you know.
I understand that it comes from a place of genuine curiosity, but I really am tired of saying, “I don’t know.”
I don’t know because Dominic doesn’t know.
He’s in teenage limbo where he has not yet found his passion and purpose.
I always knew what I wanted to do. I’ve always had a plan. I am not the kind of person who drifts through life.
But some people are, and that’s fine. He’s one of them. I’m not trying to impose my will on him.
He might work for a year.
He might go to college.
He might go into the military.
His friends know what they are going to do, and that adds pressure.
He’ll figure it out. The frontal lobe is still developing.
In the meantime, at least he’s passed this milestone. I’m proud of him.
And I’m as interested as everyone else in what’s next.
Ladies, I’ve tried my best to ensure they understand our anatomy. Once, I even pulled out a diagram of our bits at the dinner table.
(Look. Listen. Education has no boundaries.)
I never ever want them to be like these idiots:
I’ve told them porn isn’t realistic. I mean, I’ve never once gotten off by someone slapping my parts. I don’t know any woman who has an instant orgasm from penetration. There are no naked pizza delivery drivers in my neighborhood.
If you have and can, and there are, good for you! No shade.
I should share this with them and really make it weird:
It’s a good explanation.
Of course, there are plenty of other … uh … aspects of and tactics for gratification.
Just know that I have told them they need to make sure you get yours. And to listen to what you say about how to do that.
Also, we’ve discussed various methods of birth control and THEIR responsibility.
Not that I’m advocating for sex willy nilly, but I am realistic.
They are still teenagers, so they have plenty to learn. Just know I’ve done my best.
Looking forward to getting to know you!
Sincerely, Your boyfriend’s mom
*Before anyone gets hot and bothered, let me say that I used to start off sentences with, “When you date someone, and he, she or they …” I just wanted to leave the door open. But every time I said that, they informed me they like girls. The door is still open; I don’t care.
I see my friends posting about prom and honor societies and college visits and whatnot. Though part of me wishes you wanted the traditional high school milestones, most of me loves that you are doing things your own way.
For example, you eschewed the actual prom to have your own prom in a friend’s back yard. (Props to that mom: She did a great job!)
This is a fancy party! (Photo credit: Petra McKinnon)
And no one seemed to care about dates. It was one big friend group.
Girls seem to be an afterthought, which is fine by me. I’m not ready to be a grandma! I do wonder if I’m somehow a gang mom. What are those signs they are throwing? (Photo credit: Petra McKinnon)
I’m surprised there were real suits. You two had threatened to go to Actual Prom in your Spider-Man costumes.
Not that there is anything wrong with that, I guess. It’s really par for the course for you and your pals. After all, this is how you go to school:
And how you go to Target:
I don’t know how you can go shopping. You spent all your money on a Batsuit.
My son, The Batman
It’s movie quality. It should be for the amount of money the two of you spent. (I still can’t believe you chipped in, Gideon.)
But you know what? You AREN’T spending money on drugs.
Your habits are nerdy and wholesome. I’m a fan.
And Dominic, you’ve been a Bat fan for your whole life, so I’m not surprised.
Uh oh. You spotted the Joker!
I love you both very much. And I love that you are individuals.
As they were playing on a Wednesday, I made a little trip to Market Tavern before I met my friend Hannah at the show.
I walked in to someone warbling a song I didn’t recognize. Then I realized it was supposed to be “Let It Go” from “Frozen.” That’s a bad AND good sign. It’s a good sign of bad karaoke.
Perfect.
I got a drink and chose a seat at the back of the bar where I could sit alone and not draw attention. Smart move.
It was in front of the men’s room. Not a smart move.
My first gentleman caller was a man with a fully tattooed face. Think knockoff version of The Enigma.
He asked me if was going to sing.
At least, I think that’s what he asked me.
He could have asked me if he could dismember me in the Gents, and I wouldn’t have known.
He was 102 and drunk with a very thick Stokie accent that was hard for these American ears to understand.
My view from the hostess stand for the men’s room.
My next new friend was a man with four teeth and four iron cross tattoos. Delightful! He also sported a Confederate flag wristband.
He wanted to know if I had a boyfriend.
I toyed with the idea of saying, “Yes. He’s a Jewish man of color from Poland.” I think I could have made him explode “Raiders of the Lost Ark” style.
An older woman at the next table came over.
Her: Are you alright on your own there?
Me: Oh, yes. I’m fine, thank you.
Her: You’re American!
Me: Yes. What am I doing in the middle of Hanley, right?
Her: Well, yes.
She went to the loo, and I checked my phone for word from Hannah. I suddenly felt hands touching my shoulders. I yelped and turned around.
Creepy George: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.
Me: Well, you did. Please do not touch me.
Didn’t mean to startle me? Someone who doesn’t know you and has her back to you? What did he expect? “Hi handsome! Please come back to my temporary accommodation for stranger boning.”
When I went to the bathroom, I took my drink. Women know why.
Meanwhile, the show went on. It was definitely a crying-in-your-beer kind of vibe.
“Fake” ones rely on jump scares, which are too much like pranks for me.
However, when your children — whom you haven’t seen in almost two weeks — want you to go with them someplace, you say, “Yes.” Or at least I do.
Our group consisted of three moms and five teenage boys, ages 15-16.
Someone needs to shave.
Here are the things that I found scary upon arrival:
The ticket price. It was $30 each. Yikes!
The porta potties outside didn’t have lights inside them.
The lack of masks indoors. COVID isn’t gone, y’all!
Once inside, there were other things to scare me:
Just as I started to walk in, the dude pulling back the curtain stuck his hand in front of my face. I screamed from shock. Then giggled because HOW DUMB?!?
A huge animatronic demon face bum-rushed me and shoved me into a wall.
The floors were designed to match the “rooms.” Squishy flooring to represent grass in a cemetery, for example. What’s scary about that? The broken-ankle potential. I don’t need that again.
There was a corridor of clowns. HORRIFYING. I loathe clowns.
Each of the two haunted houses ends with a chainsaw-wielding madman. Or three. I loathe chainsaw-wielding madmen. (That comes from a certain movie seen at an impressionable age.)
One of the boys’ friends putting on a badass act. “What? I can’t help it if I’m not scared.” OK, then, Buzzkill.
I did have a good time, though. One of the best things was the boy banter.
Dominic: Gideon, be careful they don’t put you in one of the exhibits. Gideon: What? Dominic: “Oh, here’s another skeleton.” Dylan: More bones, all Fernbank style. Gideon (laughing): My superhero name can be Bones. Dominic: I feel like this right here is a villain origin story.
As many of you know, I’ve been taking what I’ve termed “murder-prevention trips” during the pandemic. As I’ve mentioned, I’m an extrovert who likes to travel. The pandemic was hard for me for those reasons, as well as the fact that my children and I were all up on each other trying to work/study.
(First-world problems, I know. We did not have nearly the issues that many, many other people had. But this was my reality, and I’m acknowledging its difficulty.)
I’m not an indoor cat.
Look at what Dominic got me (on his own!) to commemorate my latest trip:
Plus, my favorite band was playing their first gig in a billion years (i.e., 18 months).
I am such a huge Anglophile — constantly amused and/or impressed by the things I find. This jaunt was no exception.
An all-in-one station. You don’t even need to move your hands. Genius!If it’s needless, why is it there?Ew! No. That’s an assault on humanity.I asked the waiter what this was on the saucer. He said, “Flake.” I said, “A flake of what?” It’s chocolate. We Americans don’t have that.Brilliant!I love that it’s a “Demand” button instead of the more polite “Call.”I’ve never seen a toilet shaped like this.Well, OF COURSE there will be nudity. It’s the UK and “naked” is in the title.
I’ve promised Gideon a birthday trip there in May, COVID willing. Maybe he’ll be as delighted as I am with the cultural differences.
Thank you for always choosing time with me as your birthday present. I can assure you that I love the annual family trip to Cape Cod for the Fourth of July.
This year was rough for everyone. We ALL needed the long weekend.
I haven’t laughed so much in a while.
It started on the way there.
The airline staff made the announcement about early boarding for parents traveling with children in car seats.
Me to Dominic: What if you were your size, but you still had to sit in a car seat? Dominic: (Snorts) Me: Safety first! Dominic: His bones are brittle!
We got there expecting nice weather so we could hang out on the beach. I don’t know why. Even a cursory glance at the forecast would have told me to expect indoor activities. And I’m a meteorologist! Yes, I’m suitably embarrassed. Like I said, I packed aspirationally, not realistically.
Thankfully, you had Cards Against Humanity, Family Version.
It started with this:
What killed Old Joe? Stuff.
Continued with these:
Soon, you were laughing as hard as I was.
And don’t forget the saga of the stick wine (aka Baboon Wine). (I still don’t remember how that name came to be. It’s because I had too much of the stick wine, I know.)
Great weekend ingredients: Stick wine, sunsets, fireworks and “Mermaid Water.”
And wearing a “comfy” for an evening stumble walk on the beach.
I enjoyed all of it.
It was great to see you and hang out with Matt and the kids. I’m totally cool with Elsa and Gideon getting married. 🙂
Observe and report 