posted
(Latest entry in my "every day in December" attempt at blogging)
I'm on vacation this week, the better to make my LA trip, and I've been picking my son James up from school to save Teres the hassle of pulling into a packed parking lot, waiting 15 or 20 minutes for James and his friend Morgan to get out and find us, and then waiting another 15 or 20 minutes to work our way out of the parking lot. The engineers who designed this parking lot obviously hated children and parents, or else they weren't aware that the school would try to cram three times as many kids in as they had room for. Either way.
Teres came along today so we could grab a late lunch afterwards, and this is more or less a verbatim description of the actual discussion that followed between Teres, me, and our 15-year-old son James after I pulled up to an intersection full of cars zipping along.
Teres: If you're gonna kill us, could you make it quick? I need to pee and a near miss would be bad.
Me: Nothing lingering?
Teres: No, lingering is bad. Quick, clean death.
James: Could you do it so I look cool when we die? In case there are cameras?
Me: No, no. You die cool, everyone talks about you, but then it goes away in a semester and maybe one mention in the yearbook. No, you need to die a spectacular, personally humiliating death.
James: Humiliating?
Me: Like on fire, somehow. And pantsless.
Teres: (giggling) Pantsless?
Me: Completely. That's an image that wil burn into the minds of everyone who sees it. And everyone will see it, that's what YouTube is for.
posted
Oh man. This reminds me of a conversation that I had with my mom and brother on Thanksgiving about whether you would be able to survive after diving into a pool full of mashed potatoes.
(For those wondering, we decided that it would depend on whether they were whipped or chunky, and how much butter and milk would be in them.)
posted
I routinely plan how to get out of a building in case of attack or what I'd need to loot first if the Apocolypse comes.
I don't usually imagine my own death, but I occasionally get stuck in a loop of my boyfriend's death and upset myself all day. Your way sounds much more fun, Chris.
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posted
My family had a standing agreement that if any one of us were hit by lightning during a thunderstorm while on the can, one of us would pull up his/her pants before the ambulance arrived.
Also, I once saw a man picking his nose as he drove his Jeep at a high speed along the highway. At the time (don't ask) my ipod was playing the Macarena. I thought that one really embarrassing way to go would be: rear-ended while picking your nose so that your finger goes way up, your jeep ends up on the side of the road, upside down, and you're dangling from your seatbelt as the chorus of the Macarena sings away...
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