Wednesday, June 2, 2010


Actual conversation between me and my mom:

Me: The young one got another frowny face at daycare today.

Her: Oh who cares, it's just daycare.

Me: This is the foundation of his school years lady. His calendar looks like an ad for antidepressants. **commercial voice** Are you feeling sad, happy, sad, sad, happy, sad?

Her: What can he be doing that's so bad?

Me: Well today he apparently tried to shove rocks in an electrical outlet.

Her: He's so cute. **giggles**

Me: You've just been removed from the pick up list.

Her: Well what does his teacher say about all this?

Me: That he's not receptive to time out. He's following a gang.

Her: **chuckles** A gang.

Me: No, really. He's in a gang.

Her: **blank stare**

Me: I don't know what to do. He keeps pulling his pants down so that his little Thomas the Train undies show. Everyday when we leave he hits his chest with his fist then throws some apparent gang sign to these two kids they call "Big B" and "Trashman".

Her: **eyebrows scrunched together** GANG signs??

Me: Yes lady!

Her: ***very high pitched*** Reeeeeeally???? **fast breathing**

Me: Mom, I'm fucking kidding, calm down.

Her: **hysterical laughing** I was wondering how the hell a 3 year old knew gang signs!! **laughing gasping**

Me: The real question here is how do YOU know what gang signs are??

Her: Um helloooo....I drive a bus. **throws 10 kinds of wrong gang signs**