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Thursday, February 26, 2009

The Fantastic Jess Has the Keys to the Bungalow

Jess is my home girl from Savannah, GA. That is a whole 2 hours from my hometown of Charleston and is considered our "sister city". Does that technically make us sisters, Jess? If yes, rock on. Jess is a connoisseur of the finer things in life such as beer, American Idol, and karaoke. One of these days I am gonna road trip it down there while I am visiting my mom and go sing some karaoke and get embarrassingly drunk. I am sure Jess will post the pictures on her blog This Life is Mine. While Jess is here at the Bungalow make sure she doesn't build a beer-a-mid with the cans and puts them in the recycling bin.

First of all, I want to give a shout out and a holla to Kat, who was [brave] kind enough to ask me to guest post! Love ya, mean it!

So, I do a lot of blog reading. I read you, and you, and most certainly you, you – not so much, but I still like you. I noticed that many of you have pets, some of you have kids and if you don’t have kids, you party like it is 1999. Then some of you have pets, kids AND party like it is 1999. All the same, a commonality can be reached by most.


Mrs. Kat here has some little ones AND a dog with little ones! Don’t get me wrong, I love me some kids, but my repeated inquiries about when some of my favorite bars will be getting child care services has gone unanswered for quite some time, therefore, no human children quite yet only children of the four legged, furry variety.


Stick with me here…I get off track every now and then…oh, look, a squirrel!!


So in recent years I have found some things out about my parents that have struck me as very interesting.

For instance, my parents have kept a folder on each of us kids from the time we were born. They are filled with humorous things that we have done over our lifetime.

After being out of my parent’s home for almost 10 years, my Mom finally brought out my folder (about two years ago) and showed me some of the things she had kept. I had NO IDEA! By the way, each of the items are laminated for safekeeping. My mother is very efficient.

One of the items was a church bulletin in which I had written a note to my parents that I didn’t want to sit by the window because “there are spitters over here”. Spitters = spiders. Mom said she and Dad almost lost it right there in church.

There were some very interesting letters to Santa as well.

Other items are notes from my kindergarten teacher expressing her concern over my constant chit chat and never being able to sit down. Mom found this to be hilarious due to the fact (1) I was in kindergarten and what child isn’t full of chit chat and energy and (2) that she birthed me and found it humorous that someone else FINALLY had to go through what she had been going through for years.

The best items were from my high school days.

When ever I got in trouble it was common practice that Mom would make me write a two page paper on what it was that I had done and what I felt should be my proper punishment.

In this particular instance I wanted to go with my friends to Six Flags Over Georgia for the day, but earlier in the week had an “attitude” towards my Mother, in which she was not inclined to forget and therefore told me to write a paper on why I should get to go with my friends out of town.

It has come to light that this type of punishment was of great entertainment for my folks. They have even admitted to administering said punishment, winking at each other from across the room and anxiously waiting to see what we would write. They also admitted that on MORE than one occasion they retreated to their closet, which was located at the very back corner of the house, to stifle their laughter.

All these years…and all this time…I had no idea. My parents are absolute geniuses!! Poker faces like you wouldn’t believe.

I will have you know that I was able to go to Six Flags with my friends…and all this time I thought my paper writing skills got me there. No, not in the least; Mom said it was one of the hardest they had laughed and that is what won me my ticket.

Here is the letter typed out, grammatical errors/spelling errors and all…


[Mom dated it at the top – 5 Nov 96, which means I was 15 years old]


The reason you should let me go:


Well, first off everyone is entitled to a bad attitude sometimes. Things will just build up and the littlest things will set you off. I think it is a teen thing, because we all seem to have that problem at school. In all I think I handled my anger in pretty well, because even though you saw an attitude you didn’t’ see it all. (I know, that sounds bad)


Things are better now, and I have no idea what I was “attituden” about. Just stuff I guess. You have to admit that I am a perfect child most of the time, so I am entitled to an attitude day ever once in a while. I think the short temper and impatience in hereditary.


Gee, I’m not sure from which side though…


Going tomorrow is important to me, but not so important that I would absolutely die if I didn’t get to. But I still think you should let me go!


Buy anyway…there is really no reason any normal mother should let her daughter go. But you are not a normal mother. You’re a very loving, abnormal, wonderful, graceful, (sometimes cantankerous), exotic, excellent mother, who loves her only daughter and understands o-so much about her attitude. But her daughter will make no promise that her temper, or over all attitude will not show through sometime cause like I said you have to show your butt sometimes.


I

I will

I will try

I will try not

I will try not to

I will try not to have

I will try not to have an

I will try not to have an attitude

I will try not to have an attitude!


A page and ½, I think you get the main jest of it. If I wrote anymore I would be really studdering


With all love and due respect of any other teen,

Jess #15


I particularly like how my mother is cantankerous and exotic. Secondly, I like how I took up half of the second page by writing the “I will” sentence and lastly, I signed with my basketball number. I can’t believe I lived to the age I am now!


You better believe I am keeping a folder on my kids!


17 comments:

Smocha said...

That was hilarious!

Anonymous said...

He-hee! I've laminated some of the funny things my teenage son wrote when he was five or six.

Uh-oh! Exploding hippo, must dash.

Ian Newbold said...

What a brilliant idea. I have a box of my son's stuff, that I have yet to do anything with. But I do tend to write notes on the back of stuff, if there is an accompanying funny story.

Mama Dawg said...

I heart you. I truly do. Even more, I heart your mother! That is an EXCELLENT form of punishment. I will sooooooo be stealing that.

Jess said...

Smocha - glad you enjoyed!

Splodge - Keep on keepin on cause one day it will spawn great laughter with your kid!

SPD - You gotta do it! Really makes for some good family sit down time later in life.

MD - You have GOT to send me some early releases of LOML's writings...I know they are going to be awesome!

Lola said...

Hehehe! Great post, Jess. I keep a box of my son's "work," but I'm not organized enough to laminate it. Props to your mom.

I like the letter writing idea, but my kid is a boy of very few words. It would be something along the lines of, Why you should let me go - because I want to go.

Two pages would take him a week!

Deb said...

I love the manipulation that went into this: "You are not a normal mother"-----meaning she was cool.

Awesome!

My mother still holds an "I'm Sorry" card that I handmade her and shows everyone. How embarrassing!

Kudos to your mom!

ChurchPunkMom said...

Yes, your parents are geniuses!! I can't wait to use this on my kids.. Thanks for sharing. :)

and wow.. you sounded just like me when I was 15.. heh.

Jess said...

Lola - the female parental unit is crazy like that. Laminating machines, diamond cutting blades for who knows what, a paraffin hand treatment kit...seriously, the list of strange shit the woman collects goes on and on.

The brothers are men of few words, but just putting out there that it needs to be two pages will have him put more effort into it than saying it just needs to be a few paragraphs. Just wait till I get a hold of my littlest brother's paper on him getting caught smoking at school. Good stuff right there!

~Deb - I like to call it litigating. Or mediating. Manipulating...such a harsh word! :) That is awesome that your Mom breaks out the I'm Sorry card...

Church Punk Mom - you will be happy you did!! I expect to see some good posts from you!! Can't wait till they do something! LOL!

Real Live Lesbian said...

Cantakerous and exotic~

I bet your mom's a hottie!

Hilarious stuff!

mo.stoneskin said...

I've always hated being spat on in church.

Captain Dumbass said...

Yo, sidekick, where's the hottie pics?

Jess said...

RLL - my mom actually looks alot like Courtney Cox. Some kids followed her around a hotel once and finally got up the nerve to ask if she was "that lady on that show" to which she said, "No, but I get that alot" to which they replied, "Are you sure you aren't her?!" Yeah, my mom is pretty fly!

Mo - why do you think they are called back row Baptist?! :)

Capt D - it is a shame that there are no pics on this here guest blog, but it was such a pain in the ass to carry those bitches alllll the way to England. But never fear, when I return, I am heading to Boston for a week and you best BELIEVE there is going to be some photo action there!

Anonymous said...

Excellent idea...but why did your mom have letters to Santa? Did he send them back? :)

kel said...

That was awesome!! I love that paper!

Unknown said...

thats hillarious! i loved it!

i once wrote a note to my parents 3rd grade ish telling them i was sorry for my attitude in which i told them

"i love you more than scientist big brains can think!"

cuz im a dork like that.

Jess said...

Anonymous - From what I understand, Mom made duplicates...Santa still has my originals.

Kel - glad you enjoyed!

Ramblings - a dork that I could have TOTALLY used as a friend when I was writing that shit! Scientist big brains can think...that is amazing.