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Classic This Full House: I don’t think early Native Americans even ate salty corn chips or spoke like Scooby Doo, did they!?!

Posted Nov 09 2009 10:01pm

Indianminime

In kindergarten, I used to call her Mini-me!

I'm starting my new job, today (YIKES!) and, well, Garth [not his real name] took the day off and, since the kids had him last Thursday and Friday, too (love when he surprises us, like that) today, I get to keep him all to myself!!!

Until, I have to go to work...wait, it's been 16 years...let me just say that again:

I HAVE TO GO TO WORK (like, leave the house and get paid real money) I mean!

So, I've been cleaning out my archives (since, it's easier than switching out the drawers and closets, really) and invite you to share in a Classic This Full House (from when Hope was in kindergarten) and, well, it's sort of comforting to know that not much has changed.

Except, I use my youngest daughter's real name (she asked me to) instead of her blog name (Mini-me) and she's in the... [cough]...3rd grade... [choke]...now!

Okay, and maybe...juuuuuust, maybe...I spell-checked-it a few times, first.

YOU'RE WELCOME!!!

November 17, 2006

Today was "Native American Indian Day" and - as it is one of the many highlights in every kindergartner's year - I was very pleased to be able to join in the pre-Thanksgiving festivities at my youngest daughter's school.

Mini-Me was apart of the "purple tribe" (her favorite color, btw!) and I was supposed to man (or woman?) the "cranberry station" but, was bumped (along with another mom) to the "snack station."

Easy, yes?

I've dealt with hungry...sweaty...tired...over-stimulated and often times cranky children, before - I thought dolling out the apple juice and corn chips a bit of a cushy job, actually.

So did my fellow-mommy-helper.

Heck, we had a system - I handled the juice, while she took over plating up the corn chips - and the first two tribes (out of ten, I think) weren't even that hungry.

So, we did what most mother's do - a little chit-chat and soon, we discovered that we had a lot of things in common.

Both our husbands worked in the financial industry, we were SAHM who are in the midst of re-examining (so to speak) our lives and worried way too much about our kids, their future, hated food shopping, our diets...and so on...and so on... But, one of the most sensitive issues (for the both of us) was that we are, unfortunately, also migraine sufferers.

"When was the last time you had one?"
[shrugs shoulders and refilling juice cups]
"Um...a few weeks ago, actually...and then my house caught on fire."
[eyes go wide]

I filled her in on my bad luck and how yesterday's freaky Nor'easter (I mean, wtf is up with all the storms, lately!?!) and how our electricity is always dimming and flickering on and off gives me (and my kids) the willies, when she - obviously feeling very comfortable - turned the tides on our conversation towards dangerous topics.

History.

"So, you have a seven-year-old son, too...who did he have for kindergarten?"
[blinking away the floaters]
"Oh, um...Mrs. Very-Well-Liked-Except-By-Me...uh...do you want me to take over with the corn chips?"
[raises eyebrow]
"Did you like her?"
[scratches at chin, trying to ignore underground zit]
"Uh...I guess she was okay...but, like...well, her room is very small and always seemed so discombobulated and nothing ever seemed to go smoothly for my son...and I really don't think thatMrs. Very-Well-Liked-Except-By-Me handled some of the...you know...more sensitive issues...very well, at all."
[raises both eyebrows]
"Oh yeah...like what?"
********************************************

Now, I'm going to break into the story here for a minute to explain to those who DO NOT suffer from migraines that - although the physicians I've seen have all different opinions on this issue - one of the key triggers to most migraine is food, namely (in my case) salt.

Let's continue and I'll try to keep the conclusion of my story, brief.

*********************************************

[munching on chips]

"Um...okay...my son had an accident the very first week of school and...I come to learn that she has this policy about kids going to the bathroom...while she's teaching...and let's just say that...um...I was pissed...my son was terribly embarrassed...and she sort of...you know...poo-poo'd it under the rug."

Her eyes went REAL wide and I followed her gaze to the classroom door to find...YUP!... Mrs. Very-Well-Liked-Except-By-Me casually walking towards the "snack center."

[flashing her gummy smile]

"Oh...HI!...how ARE you...I didn't realize that you had ANOTHER ONE...at this age level!?!"
[shoves a handful of chips into mouth]
"HUH...rye, RES...res rye do!"

My mommy-helper looked as uneasy as I did (minus spitting food all over herself) and was soon to prove to be a quick recovery.

"All the more to enjoy Native American Indian Day...right, Liz...more chips!?!"
[gulp]
Morale of today's story: You can't pick your nose...but, you can pick your friends...even when you didn't count on it...especially in school...or...something like that.

Quick, somebody shove a cranberry in my mouth...and shut me up...because my head is really starting feel yucky...and I guess I better stop now...before I hurt myself!?!

TGIF - have pity for the rest of us turkies (yes, it's a word!) and consider a chicken for Thanksgiving, instead!

Liz@thisfullhouse signature

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