Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers out there. I know that raising sons can be a trying and difficult task; and I, for one, appreciate the sacrifice. I wouldn’t know about raising daughters, which seems like something other-worldly.
Yesterday afternoon, in the court room, I saw a guy, who is some mother’s son, although I doubt that she would own up to that title, wearing his pants so that the crotch was down by the knees and the waist was down below his ass. This fat, pasty, bespectacled, white boy reminded me of Scott on American Idol, except this caricature was blond. Here is the conversation, which took place at about 3:15, in the courtroom as I sat there at one of the trial tables, waiting for the judge to take the bench for a 2:00 hearing. The deputy sat, facing me, about 10 feet away, chatting with a cop. I was talking on my cell phone to the J-dogg, who couldn’t believe what was happening.
Me (to the fat, pasty, bespectacled, white boy): Hey, sit down!
Deputy: What’s goin’ on?
Me: That guy mooned everyone.
Deputy: What?
Me: That guy there turned around and mooned everyone.
Deputy: What?
Me: His pants are down below his ass and he stood up and showed everyone his ass.
Deputy: Which one?
Me: That one.
Deputy: There are eight guys in jail clothes sitting there. Which one?
Me: The fat, pasty, white boy with glasses.
The deputy stood and walked across the court room to where the fat, pasty, bespectacled, white boy was now seated.
Deputy (to the fat, pasty, bespectacled, white boy): Get up.
Me (to the fat, pasty, bespectacled, white boy): Pull up your damn pants!
The deputy escorted him to a holding cell. The fat, pasty, bespectacled, white boy gave me a dirty look.
Me: Are you lookin’ at me? Are you lookin’ at me?
Thank you for your kind comments on mothers and sons. Indeed it can be trying. Yes, sometimes I have be trying really hard to even believe this boy came from my womb and possesses (how many s's should there be?) at least half of my genes. As a matter of fact, I'd venture to say, if possible, much more than half...he could be my male self, we look that much alike.
Anyway. You've heard me say he's 20. This week he did something I don't even believe he did: he hawked or sneezed a gob of whatever you guys hawk or sneeze and apparently wiped it up from the counter or the floor or wherever with a dishcloth and put it back in its (the dishcloth) place on the sink. And I touched it. Actually more than touched. I wiped a surface with it. I am still rolling my eyes. Girls gotta be cleaner.
Posted by: VFH at May 6, 2005 03:30 PMDid you see butt crack? Because that's really gross.
Posted by: lucy at May 6, 2005 05:08 PMHappy Mother's day to Stacey, I hope that she's on the mend.
I assure you girls are more difficult than boys.
Perhaps your mooner was hatched out.
Posted by: Anji at May 8, 2005 03:24 AM