Follow Meeeee Tiny Dancer! (et. all)
And now, my friends, the post that you’ve all (not) been waiting for is up over at Toy With Me. The post about what I would do if I had a penis. It was written while I was both high on life AND cough syrup AND The Swine Flu, and was a total blast to write, so please go over and hump the shit out of it.
Also, do I need to remind you that it is TOTALLY not safe for work?
Click here, bitches. Or read on below.
(why have OR when you can have AND?)
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Every now and again, Daver and I will set up shop outside (typically nursing a couple of cold frosty ones. Like Miller High Life: The Champagne of motherfucking Beers) and discuss our children.
His work tends to be the sort that my brain is not large enough to process and my “work” is so mind-numbingly dull (“…and THEN, and THEN I emptied the DUST BUSTER! Bwahahahaha!“) that neither of us care to discuss it.
So we instead discuss the future lives of our children. Hypothetically speaking.
And since I was a bit of a rebel in my own way, and marrying me is COMPLETELY a sign of rebellion (have you MET ME?) we often wonder what my children will do to horrify us later in life. It’s inevitable, so we try to brace ourselves for whatever would bug us the most.
Maybe it’s because I’m so graceful that I nearly broke my foot walking down the stairs, or because last summer I literally fell through the front door while stone-cold sober, or because I broke a toe making a motherfucking sandwich. I don’t know. I’m willing to bet that for our eldest, it will be interpretive dancing.
It will also make my soul wither up and die.
I have no real problems with dancers in general; if I were going to do something cultured, I’d likely chose the symphony or the opera – didn’t know your Aunt Becky liked opera, didya? – and not the ballet, but the ballet is different. I can understand ballet.
Interpretive dancing, however, baffles me. I simply don’t, and probably never will, follow or appreciate what some people think of as Dancing With The Music (Creepily). I just don’t get it. And I’m kinda freaked out by it.
I made the mistake of telling my older brother and his wife about this in a completely stupid turn of events, so now every time they see Ben, they encourage him to “do a dance that reminds him of a salad” or “doesn’t the thought of a cat make you want to dance like one?”
I sit quietly there, while poor Ben tries to act this out, clenching my teeth and hissing that they had better get damn good and comfortable going to every.single.fucking.show.he.does.
They always laugh, seemingly unaware that I am deadly serious. I will drag them from their comfortable yuppie North Shore home and drive them to the abandoned warehouse my son – my interpretive dancer son – and his troupe of equally misguided youths will perform for us all.
In 100+ degree heat.
While we sit on the cement floor next to scuttling cockroaches and cokeheads.
I’ll clap when they’re done pouring paint on one and other while they act out what blue is supposed to look like, or maybe I won’t clap, I don’t know, but really, I’ll be clapping because I can get the fuck OUT of there and back into the cool comfort of my car.
Then I’ll drive through McDonald’s, relishing that no one tried to act out what my diet Coke was supposed to taste like, and I’ll shake my fists at my brother and sister-in-law, who will be stuck in the backseat of my car, and remind them that tomorrow’s performance will be featuring the color red.
The color of anger.
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What would be the worst profession you could imagine your future child doing? Let’s assume that they are happy with it, so you can’t use any bullshit “whatever he’s HAPPY with” line. Let’s also leave “soldier” out of this one, because here on my blog you mean “politician.”
A paddywhack! Definitely no doubt there…(what IS a paddywhack? I just like to say it!)
I don’t know! But it sounds good, because, you know.
My only parenting goal is to keep my girls off the pole. If I can accomplish that, I will die a happy woman.
Mine too. Now that I have a daughter. YEAH.
Becks, you gotta make sure the boys stay off the pole too. You never know. Unless you’re down with that sort of thing.
I guess, the daughter I am not raising, my worst fear is that she will pick something that underachieves her. Mind you, I have no idea how she might achieve, but I want her to settle for nothing less than the absolute bliss that every child deserve… Which I guess is that crap answer you gave. Oh, I also might have an issue if she were like, a gold-digger or something.
*warning bells clanging*
Mimi’s favorite song is Gold Digger. SHIT, dude. SHIT.
Is that really what they do in interpretative dance? Huh…maybe in Vermont it wouldn’t be so hot. We’d have it outside around some bonfire and the kids would be mud covered and not have showered in a couple weeks. Deer would come by to watch, too. And we’d eat locally grown food afterwards.
I think I’d be pretty horrified if lil moonspun wound up working for the FBI or CIA. But outside of that, I am pretty mellow…well for now…who knows how I’ll be later!
I’m not really sure what they do in interpretive dancing. But it scares me.
I’d better not tell you where I work.
I was going to say stripper also. But I’d also prefer if my children weren’t telemarketers. Then I’d feel guilty for every call they ever made. And anything to do with the Renaissance Fair would really just creep me out. “oh, yes, our son Doctor (my husband’s favorite name for a boy) is a minstrel at the Ren (because they all call it the Ren).” Cringe and vomit.
Love the post – I’m sure my coworkers think I’m crazy for cracking up in my cube. Oh, add accountant to my list. I hope they find something more exciting to do than accounting 🙁
Telemarketers! That’s another good one. Because OBVIOUSLY.
I’m going to go with Garbage Man or WWE star. Because how can you a proud Mama to that?
WWE star! HAHAHAHA! I never thought of that one.
I’m terrified my son will either be a lawyer like my sister, or a factory worker like he says he will…. ugh!! Contmpery dance is high on my “Do not like” list though.
Hahaha. Yeah, Contemporary Dance freaks me OUT.
I would have to agree with Kisha and Brooke. If either of my daughters became strippers I would gather the entire family and we would go sit in the front row.I’d have to tell the creepy old men who are there that I am her mother. I hope that would get her to find a new line of work. Also, the Renaissance people are almost like a cult in my neck of the woods. Its totally weird. If the “King” tells you to quit your job or get divorced or have a baby, you have to do it. And people do! Its crazy!
I’m pretty thankful I know very little about the Ren Faire. And by “pretty thankful” I mean, I’m going to run like hell from them.
I think I’d be horrified my child ended up a cult-leader. I’m pretty ok with any religion, but zealots with agendas scare me, and zealots whose agendas revolve around whatever they make up horrify me.
Yeah, I’m pretty sure that would be heinous and make it kinda hard to sleep at night.
hhm well not being a daddy yet, I guess I will be a proud uncle as long as my neice/nephew aren’t felons. Other than that I think I can support whatever decision they make….ecspecially if it pisses off their parents and I get to be the cool uncle!
Being the cool uncle is key.
Stripper for my daughter or whore. Yikes! But those should be no brainers…what mother WANTS their daughter to be one of those??? Sure the money would be good, but??
For BOTH children, I would have to go with ANYTHING that would take them out of the country. Someplace that would require me lots of planning and a good deal of money to get them back to me or me to where they are would be a nightmare for me.
Dude. YEAH. Nothing that would be a total pain in the ass for me.
Prostitute. A stripper, I could even understand and deal with. But actually having the SEX for money? Nope. Or drug dealer. Or gang member. Basically, anything illegal or that could potentially give her horrible diseases.
Yeah, or put her in danger.
Oh sex worker, terrorist, hitwoman, religious leader, anything dangerous, too stressful, a bum…
Anything dangerous, totally.
There is very little doubt in my mind regarding my daughter’s future career. Given the way she argues EVERYTHING now (and…with logic even – pretty good for a 3 year old), she is almost destined to become a lawyer. As with the commenters above, I don’t much care what she does for money, as long as it does not involve nudity. But, I’m fairly certain that she already hates work, because that’s the thing that prevents mom and dad from spending all their time with her.
Bwahahaha! Ben already has about 20 different jobs lined up for him. Hoping none of them involve dancing.
If my son ever worked for Fox News, or held a position in the upper echelons of the republican party, I think I’d feel like a failure.
What about E! News?
I’d be perfectly happy if he worked for E! News, so long as I got to meet some famous people.
Especially if they gave you tons of money.
Hmm tough one – because I am one of those Moms whose had all the kids in the Army, even one went to Iraq, and one became a stripper when she got out. Because apparently, no one wants to hire you if the only skills you have are how to handle an M-16 and the knife strapped to your leg. Only that came in handy dealing with creepy old men.
The other two were unemployed for over 2-3 years because of their Army ‘skills’.
So, I’d have to vote for ‘unemployed’ as the worst career.
All of the strippers that I knew were pretty happy doing what they did and made really good money, and as long as they’re not in danger, I say whatever.
Unemployed, totally. Hands down.
Thanks sweetie. My daughter pulled in about $2000.00 per week – cash. And while her husband made piss-poor military pay, it kept them and their baby alive and fed.
she has now left that field and opted for full-time motherhood – another job she does well. And another baby on the way to boot.
Her husband is home from Iraq, and out – and now works – they barely get by – but what can you expect as he has been a soldier since he was 17, and his ‘resume’ consists of 19 confirmed kills of Iraqi insurgents. Hmmm – I think kind of tough for someone who was 19 at the time. But I digress.
Can you tell from my tone (between the lines) that I am not a fan of the military?
I know there are alot of Moms here on your site – but I am also a grandmom – and trust me, you worry about those little grandkids WAY more than you ever did about your kids. Why? I don’t know. Does anyone? Jayne
The strippers I knew all had the best body image of anyone I knew. There’s NOTHING wrong with that, providing everyone is safe, you know?
Yes, safe. I did mention her military skills? 😉
Why do we worry about our grandkids more than our kids?! Oh, easy.
First because we’ve already raised kids and we know how easy it is to screw it up, excuse me, make mistakes anyone might make while doing the best we can.
Second because we know our kids, we saw them throw up in the back seat on the way home from grad, get into hopeless stupid credit card debt, flunk a critical course, whatever, and now they’re raising our sweet innocent grandkids!
We love ’em sure, but should they be trusted with babies? Now really.
(Though my daughter is doing a FINE job.)
I spent 8 years in the Marines… I didn’t learn a bloody thing except how to kill people.
– Minister of any sort.
– Penis model for the “before” photo.
– Graphic Designer.
– Woman.
What about any of the “before” models?
Being an interpretive dancer myself, I can imagine worse things for my kids to do. As long as they are working above the law I will be okay. I just don’t want to have a couple of drug dealers or car thieves calling me mom. If they want to slather themselves in mustard and call themselves a hot dog in a place where people PAY to see it, I will be okay with that. Their dad will be dead inside most likely, but I will go to see it. One caveat…I won’t pay their bills, so by my own experiences in the field, they will still need a “real” job. Retail management served me well, but that’s where I got of my material for my “People really suck” evening length trilogy. 🙂
I think I just peed myself laughing over your comment. Also, your type of interpretive dancing isn’t the sort I was thinking of, I don’t think.
Anything in the sex trades, like say prostitution or writing a sex column.
Those fucking sex columnists, man.
Hmmm – this is a hard one. but I’m going to say if he grows up to be a sandwich maker (not like in high school, but like for a career) I’ll be kind of upset, because when I talk about people being dumb I always say “well, the world needs sandwich makers” and that would just be the ultimate revenge.
I always say, “the world needs ditch diggers, too.” But I think that the ditches are dug by machines now, right?
Well, obviously not a stripper or some other job I couldn’t brag about but I would hide in shame if either one of them became a motivational speaker or author or someone telling anonymous others how to improve their lives, get rich, achieve nirvana, whatever. I mean really, who has that right? And who knows what’s best for every fricking single person? Plus, I too am awesome at life and would have to ignore the children, thus sending them into therapy, and thus become hypocrites.
I peed myself reading this.
I can think of lots of things, besides the obvious criminal/hooker there would be:
-Britney Spears impersonator
-spokesperson for the Church of Scientology
-cast member on any MTV show
-porn star
How about Cast Member on Rock Of Love?
Haha SciFi dad.
Um, lots of things I don’t want my son to do – mostly mentioned above. What I want him to do is make lots of money to support momma in a very nice lifestyle. As rough and tumble (and impatient) as he is, we’re thinking his best chance at making lots of money is a pro hockey player.
Now that’s a brilliant idea! I need to make sure that Ben somehow makes enough money to support the hell out of me!
Greeting Card salesman would totally send me into a frenzy. The family business stops at this generation dammit!
Oh, you know he’s totally going to do it now.
I worry that my oldest son will end up being a self-help guru with a talk show. He’s so *sensitive* and loves to talk about *feelings* and honestly he’s got a great head on his shoulders (NO clue how that happened), but he’s always saying things like “(younger brother’s name) needs to practice better *impulse control*” or “Daddy needs to work on expressing his anger in healthier ways” and HE IS EIGHT. He’s also, um, kind of…pre-metrosexual? So basically I’m afraid he’ll end up being a cross between a kinder and gentler Perez Hilton and Stuart Smalley. GAH!
Bwahahahahahaha! I love of you.
I’m thinking professional football player would be the worst for me for the boys.
I’m fairly inured to the daily wrestling matches they have but I don’t think I could take knowing they were regularly being run into by 200+ men in pads. I’d be just waiting for a neck or spinal injury all the time. Plus I hate organized sports & for them to play pro ball a decade or more of my life would have to be spend subjected to the tyranny of practice & game schedules on top of the constant fear of serious injury.
I’d not be too happy if either of them became born again fire & brimstone preachers going on about how they know the devil is insidious because their own mother was led astray down the dark path of witchcraft.
It would make Thanksgiving dinner awkward.
Yeah, I’m worried about that too. Their wives are bound to hate me anyway, so it’s likely they’ll marry women who are SO opposite of me that it’s absurd. Like Scientologists or something.
axe murderer… unless of course she’s like Dexter and only kills bad people…
I kinda cringe when I think of my daughter as one of those white trash people with like, six kids… kinda like my husband’s brother’s wife… she’s a ho, yo! she’s on number 3, and she’s not even 21 yet- am I judgemental? – what the fuck do I care- she’s so busy trying to beat me to having the “FIRST biological grandson” that her second and third kids are going to be EXACTLY one year apart- and it should be noted that I already HAD the first grandson in my husband’s family- just because he died doesn’t mean he doesn’t count!! *mumble ho-bag mumble*
um… yeah… i’m TOTALLY not bitter or anything…. but if my daughter could just NOT be like her- she could be a goddamn interpretive pole dancing, donkey raping, circus clown for all I care!!
Dude. I totally get that.
Clown. A damn dirty clown. I always want to punch the clown.
Clowns are fucking scary.
I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that I hope neither one of them writes a tell-all book about the horrors of their childhoods.
Wouldn’t that be a kick in the face?
What would drive me nuts? If either of my kids decide to be missionaries. Yes, going to remote places with little medical care to try and convince people they are going to hell unless they convert to their religion. Yeah, that would seriously drive me nuts… I’m pretty opposed to the whole religion idea to begin with. I’ll take stripper or telemarketer over that, and whoa do I hate them telemarketers!
Bwahahaha!
Professional spokesperson for some douchebag lawyer.
They’d have to wear hair gel for that. LOADS of hair gel.
Sort of in the same realm… but I would have to say Clown. Or knight at Medieval Times.. (wait I might take that one back…) OK, I’m gonna say if I have a girl, she definitely can not be a stripper. or a prostitute… Or anything that requires them to sell things from door to door.
I may actually want my kids to grow up and be interpretive dancers. I think it would be hilarious! Maybe I should just do it myself!
You should TOTALLY do it yourself.
Just don’t ever dance as a salad. *shudders*
I worry that my son might get into politics. He is so damn good at schmoozing people and convincing them to follow along with his crazy schemes. I would hate being the momma of a smooth talking sleazy politician. As for my daughters interpertive dance doesn’t scare me as much as starving artist. I would hate for them to get into their 30’s without a job that can pay the rent (because you know where they will be living).
Really, I don’t care much what Badger does as long as it’s 1. legal 2. honest/ethical 3. he can support himself and any offspring he might beget in at least some comfort, and 4. he doesn’t end up in some crazy ranting extremist group that claims anyone who doesn’t belong to said group is “going to hell”, “ruining this country”, and/or “ought to be shot”.
That being said, I have to really, really hope there’s enough of a world left by the time he is an adult that his “job description” doesn’t involve “digging through the rubble of society searching for rats to eat”. Because that would suck. Almost as much as interpretive dance.
a dallas cowboy cheerleader. i think i would die.
I already KNOW what my 2 1/2 year old son will be. It’s not hard to figure out. He walks around wearing nothing except Thomas the Train underpants and a pink feather boa (I have pics as proof, LOL). And he loves to put gobs and gobs of lotion on his belly. And he asks for spankings. He’ll be the creepy guy from Silence of the Lambs who keeps that girl in the well. Yes, my son will grow up to wear a coat of human skin. My 1 year old will be a CPA just for the contrast 🙂
I really don’t want my boys part of a ‘boy band’ yeah– anything but that would do.
But what if they raked in oodles of cash being in a boy band?
I’m with Bex. Conservative Pundit would kill me dead.
That one would kill Ben’s father, and that would amuse me, so I’m game for that.
OMI! Well, since I have no children I can only say that my father thought my career should be a dental hygienist (if I can even spell that 2nd word) because I was good with my hands (as in artistic pursuits he’s seen for years). Mother only wanted me to be happy. Riiiiight. Married and happy with that as my ‘career’. Not in this life. LOL
Perhaps the boys could study yoga and become a dancer in this troupe. They are just awesome. Truly. Saw them years ago and they left us speechless and the beauty of their movements being off the charts. If they come to your town, go! http://www.tripsichore.com/id1.html
Any troupe which produces a 90 minute vid called “Kill the Guru” has my props. LOL
Maluhia – Peace
I’ve decided that he can be an Interpretive Dancer so long as he’s good at it. The only thing worse than an Interpretive Dancer is a BAD Interpretive Dancer.
A synchronised swimmer! Gawd is there anything more awful than when that comes on when you’re watching the Olympics on telly. I bet if they monitored when people changed channel during the Olympics it would be when Synchronised Swimming comes on…. /yawn.
Dude. HOLY SHIT. You are SO RIGHT. Also, that is kind of creepy and always makes me think of rubber ducks for some reason.
(am I high on drugs for my migraine? YOU JUST DON’T KNOW)
Evidently, the worst thing my mother can think of me doing is becoming a mother. She’s convinced i’m going to screw it up. And it’s a personal attack on her every time she gives me a bit of advice that I don’t follow.
Anything else I’ve ever done she’s been pretty okay with.
She’ll get over that one pretty quickly. Or she won’t and you’ll learn to deal. My mother-in-law is always climbing up and down the cross about something or another that I’m not listening to her about.
Hang in there.
Hahahahahaaaaa!!!!! I’ve finally found someone as graceful as I am! Except somehow I’ve only managed to break one tiny bone – must be all the calcium, because it certainly hasn’t been for lack of trying!
And, um, yeah – I’m forwarding this to B because he feels much as you do re interpretative dancing. As for my own thoughts on the matter. . . humm. . . probably my worst would be some type of professional fighter, WWF, MMA, whatever. I just don’t *get* it.
It just creeps me out, dude. Seriously, it’s like they’re WATCHING me or something. Like eyes in the wall WATCHING ME.
*shudders*
This cracked my shit up cause, my daughter does interpretive dance.
But I have found the solution to ensure I don’t dissolve in to a fit of horrified giggles while she re-inacts her own birth through the top of her best friends head, by digging my car keys deep into my arse cheek and think about all the laundry I have to do.
I think I’ll chew on the side of my cheek or my finger and calculate how much money I spent on his higher education and weep. Better than laughter, right?
One of those permanent participants on MTV shows… like that Tonya girl, who was on Real World when I was a freshman in college and I swear to God has to be 30 by now.
She got kicked off the last one I think. THIS YEAR. That’s 7 straight years of living off a willingness to act a fool in front of cameras.
For that matter, any kind of participant on any VH1 show. Flavor and Rock of Love especially.
Not that I watch that stuff…
Don’t insult Rock of Love. Any of the other ones, man, are fair game, but not my Rock of Love trash. Because MAN, that show is like BUTTER.
I watched the entire first season of Flavor of Love, but I’ve only caught Rock of Love by way of The Soup. I’ll respectfully withdraw my objection to it and insert Real Chance of Love in its place 😛
Agreed. Never saw that show, so we can TOTALLY mock the shit out of it.
They just can’t go to work for the Scientology Celebrity Centre, like their dad’s sister, who really does work there. OMFG, that is all I can say in public. OMFG>
Are you kidding me? I think we need DETAILS.
Well, the first thing I thought of was the bit about hoping they have a child JUST LIKE THEM so as to be all about the paybacks and all, but really? that’s too good for them. I think like maybe a professional intern, just living at home and working for free… forever. *shudder*
Dude. *shudders* YEAH.
Or the kid that lives in the basement playing video games all day?
OR HOW ABOUT BEING A BLOGGER?
Ironically, being the mother of two (three in March) girls, I have no issue with them becoming strippers. Prostitutes, yeah, that might irk me a bit, what with all the nasty STDs running amok. (Hehehe, amok. That’s a funny word.) But strippers? Nah. They’d get pepper spray for Christmas every year, and free judo lessons for their birthdays, but otherwise life would go on as usual.
What would really scare me and break my poor little heart would be religious zealot. Especially for any of the major religions, since most of them piss me off heartily. But really, ain’t nobody got the right to shove their religion down anybody else’s throat. That would kill me. I’d have to kick some ass for that shit.
Being a stripper would bother me only if Mimi wasn’t happy about it. If she loved it, okay.
Working any job that makes them miserable would kill me. Strippers or otherwise.
Amen.
My daughter wants to be a podiatrist. As in, she wants to play with people’s gross smelly feet that may have who knows what on them. Do I have to think of something worse? Ok, worse than that would be the person who has to shave bunyons off some old guys feet. Oh. Wait. Nevermind.
Being a massage therapist would be kinda ooky, I think. Like rubbing the skin of gross crusty people who got boners when she touched ’em?
*shudders*
Given the fact that both my kids love watching “Dirty Jobs” and are happiest when they’re covered in muck, I’m fairly certain that a career in something profoundly smelly, gooey and disgusting is in their futures. You know, like parenthood.
Haha. They’d be excellent at parenthood. Or plumbers. There’s a lot of money in plumbing, I hear. That’s a handy job, man.
Ain’t that the truth. Then they could be fixing my toilet with a paperclip instead of me.
It’s funny how much you can fix with a paper clip, eh?
The comments on this one busted me up. I have to say I think “She’s a ho, yo!” is my favorite, and I’m totally going to start saying that (when not at school of course). But the penis before model was pretty snaptastic, too. I have no problem with the stripper thing – if you got it, rock it! – but yeah, no diseases, ew. Of course I’m more concerned about the kids not getting pregnant. Do all kinds of jobs, but take your time with the kids thing, because it’s a lot easier to try out those insane/nude/gross/embarrassing jobs when your kids aren’t asking you to talk about it on Parent Day 😉
That’s kind of where I am on this. Also, you know I need to say “so long as everyone is HAPPY” because you know, I have to be all PC here.
But he BETTER not be an interpretive dancer. Just sayin’.
This is mostly irrelevant, but my husband and I also enjoy the Champagne of Beers.
You know how they have those points now, to get beer-related shit?
I started collecting the beer boxes over a year ago. Most of my party-happy friends like High Life too, and would go through several Dirty 30 packs in a night.
I now have over 11,500 beer points. We might get a cooler or a picnic umbrella. Haha.
Ah.
The Champagne of Beers is fucking tasty! And I’ll have to look into the points because that is full of the AWESOME.
Miller High Life… that’s what my dad used to drink. I don’t drink it now, but it really is the best after busting my ass in the yard on a hot day.
We reckon Sophie’s going to be all about the professional bungie jumping or, worse still, skydiving. Or driving a race car. Essentially anything that would endanger her precious little life scares the bejesus out of us, considering we almost lost her once (like I wouldn’t care equally as much anyway, but still).
She has this nutty, devil-may-care approach to life- she’ll deliberately tip upside down while you’re holding her because it gives her a head-rush. She’ll go pounce on the sleeping dog because it makes her laugh to get snapped at. OMG.
Dude, I’m going to ENCOURAGE her to go try out stripping. She loves Gold Digger too, btw- maybe she and Mimi can do a double act on stage one day 😛
Mimi is kind of obsessed with electrical cords so maybe she does have a death wish. Stripping may be a great career option after all, right?
Fencer. Not the guy building fence but the dude with the foils and the face guard. Can that even be a profession? I just don’t know how he would make a living do that. Right now I think he’s on the track to be an MMA (Mixed Martial Arts) fighter. Yeah, he likes to wrestle. And you know what’s sick. I would cheer him on. And live off of his winnings. But he’s only 3 so I have a lot of time to mold him.
I love the Miller High Life commercials of old. There was one about a guy and a baseball going through his window, but if it were a soccer ball, then he’d have words, he’s a High Life Man.
I love the Bud Light Real Men of Genius commercials. They pretty much make my life worth living? If you haven’t seen them, I highly suggest youtubing them.
Anything that had the word “Republican” or “Jesus” in it.
Hey! You asked.
Pretty sure you’re not alone in that one, love.
Umm. Any sort of sports player. Cause I fucking hate sports. Except maybe Nascar, cause I could drive his racecar. I wouldn’t like watch his races. I’d just wanna drive at 200 mph. I’m a motherfucking lead foot – represent.
Also, a fucking MIME. Bastard tries to put me in an invisible box, I’ll put him in a pine box six feet under. Or a carnie. Fucking creepy carnies. If I hear the words, “Step right up!” leave my son’s mouth, I’ll sew it shut with a knitting needle.
I’d be ok if he were a stripper. His penis looks like a mini-version of his father’s (Not that I look at it that way, but I spent 3 years changing his diapers. It’s unavoidable), so if he’s at least as big, it’ll be worth paying to see.
Dude. YEAH. Mime’s are CREEPY.
I have no freakin clue. I’m almost afraid to guess. Given their personalities alone, I am going to go with Dr. Evil for my daughter, because nothing less than world domination will do. And, sports agent for my son, because he oozes charm and manipulation, why not get rich off it?
Good point. I should really aim higher with my kids, eh? I could use the fantasy of living the good life, living off the spoils of my kids. Because I know it isn’t gonna happen, but it’s nice to dream.
If any of my kids became religious figures? That would drive me batty. I’m hoping none of them becomes ambulance-chasing lawyers or prostitutes or loan sharks.
Loan sharks. GOOD CALL. Yeah, that would be a bad one too, huh.
Well, I’m not sure I’m qualified to comment, since I don’t have kids (and there are many good and compelling reasons for that, but I won’t monopolize your blog quite so much), but since lack of qualifications has never stopped me before, I’m commenting anyway. Besides, I have a niece, and that’s close enough.
Anyway, all I could think of when I was reading comments was a conversation I had many years ago with a ‘friend’ (yeah, right) while driving across western Kansas. (Note: DO NOT drive across Kansas with someone unless you already know them very, very well.) We had finally gotten close enough to Denver to pick up radio stations again, and one ran a promo for a series on the local news – how parents deal with learning that their child is gay.
I thought is sounded like an interesting series. Her answer was, “What’s the point? It’s easy.” Really? What would you do? “I’d throw him out of the house and never speak to him again. I’d rather my son be serial killer or a rapist than gay.”
WTF? So at this point, I don’t care what my niece decides to do with her life (although it would be nice at this point if she would decide on something, she’s almost 21 and still working at the day-care she worked at in high school). Just as long as she isn’t an ignorant, bigoted bitch in the process.
Yeah, exactly. That would probably devastate me more than anything else because I’d know I’d failed if my kid turned out to be a bigoted ignorant asshole. Also, that SUCKS you got stuck in the car with this person.
My daughter has a new profession every week.
I believe her “life plan” has been to be a professional skateboarder for almost a month now and I am encouraging it with great enthusiasm.
Past life plans include:
“MOM! want to hear my life plan? You know that there are girls who get paid for going to conventions and wearing cute little outfits and try to get people to sample beer?”
Daughter:
“MOM! want to hear my life plan? I am going to own a little place on Mount Royal street.”
Me:
“what are you going to sell?”
Daughter:
“Nothing…people will just come hang out there>”
Me:
“that’s it?”
Daughter:
“Yeah! Isn’t that genius?”
Daughter:
“Mom! I know what I’m going to be when I grow up! A cage dancer!”
I’ve learned that if I try and dissuade her, it only fuels the desire to prove me wrong so I usually just tell her that’s a really cool sounding plan and pass her a dishtowel.
http://www.theladyslounge.com
My daughter’s plan of the month is to become a professional skateboarder. I hope it sticks.
Previous plans include:
“Mom! Guess what! There are these girls who get paid to dress up in cute little outfits and offer to let people taste beer!”
“Mom! New life plan. Get a little place on Mount Royal”
“And sell what?”
“Nothing! Just let people come hang out with me. Isn’t that genius?”
“Mom! New life plan! I’m going to be a cage dancer!”
I have learned that trying to dissuade her only fuels her desire to prove me wrong so I smile and nod, tell her how cool that sounds and pass her a dish towel.
http://www.theladyslounge.com
Any soul sucking enterprise for my boys would horrify me.
Cockroaches and crackheads, sign me up!!
Anything with Jesus (because we’re JEWISH!!).
High school drop out for sure. Most of my husbands family didn’t graduate high school, so I fear the example that sets. I guess high school drop out is not a profession, but it’s kinda hard to have one if you are.
Very, very good point. Also, how do you address that one in the Christmas cards?
Address which one? The being Jewish or the high school drop outs?
The high school drop out one. That would be awfully tricky.
Pretty much everyone thinks I’m Jewish anyway, so that’s not so hard to address.
Anything in the sex industry, not because of the eww factor,but because I feel there are some deep, unresolved issues that attract people to that kind of work. That would lead me to believe that my child not only had a shitty childhood, but they would not be happy as adults either. Have you seen Sex Addicts with Dr. Drew??
a day late on this one, but is crack whore taken?
A ballerina or a soprano. I consider myself a tolerant person, but those are two groups of people I *really* don’t like. I was going to say operatic soprano, but, really, the thought of Alice standing on stage belting out show tunes with jazz! hands! while dancing makes me puke a little bit.
I think ‘unemployed’ would suck. So would ‘serial killer’ or ‘serial rapist’ or ‘child pornographer’. I would prefer he stay out of the human trade business or drug industry – or anything else that would land him in a facility with an orange jumpsuit as the dress code were he caught.
Now that I have ruled out all that – I think I would die inside if he worked for an insurance company trying to find ways to deny insurance claims.
I don’t even have to guess because my five year old told me two weeks ago that he wants to be “nothing” when he grows up and he wants to be poor and live with us.
I think I prefer interpretive dancer…
Hey, Ben could have the next “Blue Man Group” on his hands.
My husband and I took the kids to the Bristol Renaissance Faire in WI this summer (which is basically a place for fetishists to meet, I figured out). There were dozens of 20-something man/children talking quite seriously about fantasy role playing games (a la the movie “Role Models”) That’s when I told my husband, “If I can chose between having gay sons and ones who live in our basement at 25 playing Dungeons & Dragons online, please God, let them be gay.” Oh, and I would also be bummed if they worked for a drug company or 7-11.
I have 2 sons, a 23 yr old and a 25 yr old, both raised EXACTLY the same way. One is in an underground hardcore band, the other, a church youth group leader. I love them both, but WTF?
dammit, Ashley took mine…mime. bye now.
I think we can safely second that emotion, yo. Mimes are CREEPY.
If my hypothetical future child(ren) wanted to give me fits of agony and non-understanding, they’d be like… a gym teacher.
Not JUST a gym teacher.
One of those lady gym teachers who tries to tell teenage girls “running will actually MAKE your cramps feel BETTER.”
Now that I’m an adult, I acknowledge the possible truth of that statement, but I acknowledge it comfortable in the believe that I’m a goddamned adult and no one can make me run if I don’t want to. Teenage me was subject to gym teacher whim.
Yeah. A lady gym teacher who made girls with cramps run laps. That would just be horrifying to me. Because I hypothetically raised my hypothetical future child(ren) better than that.
OR? OR! They would be some kind of person in an office, non-specific, but one who always made people participate in ice breakers in meetings and stuff. I can’t imagine something that would come from MY INSIDES would ever willingly participate in, LET ALONE INFLICT, ice breakers upon anyone.
I’ve gotten carried away, and also a bit nervous for my hypothetical future.
What about someone who often says, “It looks like someone has a Case of the Monday’s!”
I’m terrified my children will be Republican.
This seems to be a running theme on my blog. Which cracks me up because either all of the Republicans don’t come here, or they’re in hiding.
Well, with all the “life on the Pole” comments, I have to say for either my daughter or my sons, anything that they felt like they had to settle for. I want my kids to feel like they’re important–either because they can make the world’s best sandwiches or because they are the world’s greatest supreme court justice. I will admit to having secret high aspirations for my kids because when we were thinking about names, I always said it has to sound okay with “Supreme Court Justice blank announced today…” I’m okay with just about any career, as long as they’re proud.
On the topic of interpretive dance, I really wish I could convey to you the image in my head. When I was a kid, our church had a member, probably in her early 40s, who was an interpretive dancer. About once a month, the “special music” would consist of this slender woman with a white-lady afro, wearing a jewel toned catsuit that came down to mid-calf, with a swishy see-through silk skirt on top, and she would do these “dramatic interpretations” of things like Spring. I don’t know what anyone else thought or if she was actually any good, but to this day, I’m a little confused and unnerved by interpretive dance, catsuits, and people wearing swishy things.
And THAT is exactly WHY I don’t want my son to pursue interpretive dancing. Luckily, he’s as creative as a shoe, so I think I’m safe.
*phew*
That story? HILARIOUS. You should blog it.