The Neighborhood Mom Chat

I was down the street chatting with my neighbors Ellen and Mary recently, right next to where the big, dead bird incident occurred.  Then all of a sudden, one of them points to the other one's shirt and says: "Look! A boob stain!  Coffee, right?  How funny is it that for once it's not on Lydia?" and they both laughed and laughed and said that whenever they see someone with a boobstain, they automatically think of me.

Awesome.  Apparently I am a giant boobstain in the minds and hearts of my neighbors.

Snitches.  I know I have a problem dripping coffee on myself.  I can't help it.  My jugs are huge and they make a big shelf that just seems to catch everything.  Blame GOD for that, people, don't mock me.  But Kate does it, too.  She's always like: "Lydia! There's a lid on the coffee, for Pete's sake" and I'm always like: "Kate! There's a hole in the lid, dumbass."

Stupid Kate.

So back to my conversation with the neighbors.  After telling me that I was giant boobstain, I karate punched one of them in the neck and then roundhouse kicked the other like I was Chuck Norris.  Just kidding.  I am a boobstain.  I own it.  Really, we just chatted about school starting soon and then Mary drops the bomb that she has decided to homeschool her kids.  ALL FIVE OF THEM. 

There was a moment of silence.  Then laughter.  Then silence again when we realized she was serious. Ellen and I looked at each other and then back at Mary with wide eyes.  Then Mary cracked up uncontrollably because apparently we both looked terrified and constipated at the mere thought of being trapped in the house with all of our kids all year long.

Ellen and I both think homeschooling is awesome.  I secretly sort of wish I could do it and think my kids could be starting college at 14 if I let them learn at their own highly accelerated, super star pace.  Stop laughing.  I could do it.  Though in all likelihood, by age 14 the only things they would excel at would be whining, begging me to drive them places and Lego Star Wars.  But in our hearts, Ellen and I know we'd be homeschooling our kids from the Nervous Hospital if we tried to do it ourselves.  

So we congratulated Mary, but we must not have sounded enthusiastic.

Mary: "You guys are hilarious. It's going to be great!"

Ellen: "Sure it is!  We totally support you.  Ummm... You're going to need Bailey's in your coffee to get through the day.  I can support you by buying some this afternoon."

Mary: "Drinking in the morning!  Excellent.  And I'm going to start wearing denim jumpers every day."
Lydia: "Ooh!  And Bump-its!  This is fun! Can I homeschool, too?"
Ellen and Mary: "NO."
(Lots of giggling. At my expense. Again.)
Ellen: "OH MY GOD! What day is it?! What TIME is it?! WHAT DAY IS IT?!"

Mary: "Are we in a science fiction movie? Do you know who you are?"

Lydia: "Umm... Tuesday?"

Ellen: "I HAVE TO GO RIGHT NOW!  GAHHHH!"

(Runs away really fast)

Mary: "Well, that was pretty cool.  Do you suppose she's being chased by something invisible?"

Lydia: "I hope not.  When that happens to me I generally wake up surrounded by angry men in white pants.  Then they give me a shot."

Mary: "Are you kidding, Boobstain?  Because I can't tell."

(Ellen emerges from her house with all three children in leotards and literally throws the smallest one into her van.)
Ellen: "We! Are! So! Late! For! Gymnastics!"
Mary: "Ahhh.  There you go."
Lydia: "I find that explanation oddly unsatisfying."
Mary: (nodding) "I have to go prepare my curriculum."
Lydia: "Don't forget the bump-its!"
Mary: (walking away) "Don't forget to suck it!"
Ellen: (out of the window of the van while speeding away) "That's what she said!"

I really love my neighborhood.
-Boobstain out.

(c)Herding Turtles, Inc. 2009 - 2010