Wednesday, July 6, 2016

Any Good Parent...

I know, I know...2 posts in 1 week. I just had a startling realization and thought I'd share. The world might just not know what to do with this information. I sure don't know what to do with it, except attempt to rectify the situation ASAP.

There we sat, in the restaurant for Mi Espouso's 50th birthday, having a lovely conversation over dessert with his father and my mother and Myrtle the Younger (Myrtle the Elder is on a friggin' boat to the Bahamas with Uncle KB and his family), when I have the sudden awful realization that I have failed miserably as a parent.

A parent's sole obligation is to teach/share/impart unto their children all the important necessities of life. Correct? I have tried to educate the Myrtles with the essentials and I even thought I had made a decent 'To Do' list: addition, subtraction, basic hygiene, etc. The list included both good and not-so-good life references including learning the words to Bohemian Rhapsody (to be sung off-key at the top of your lungs while Mom is driving) as sung by Queen or the Muppets, memorizing Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and listening to Rock Me Amadeus by Falco. (Hey, I knew the girls would eventually need counseling. I just wanted to ensure they had sufficient reason to fork out good $$ for psychiatric care.)

Alas, I have made the discovery that I left out an important piece of Americana...Beetlejuice (GASP!). Somewhere between Star Wars and Speed Racer, Mi Espouso and I forgot to introduce the girls to that classic piece of bizarreness. What is even more tragic is that Myrtle the Younger actually stated that the main character never appealed to her. (WHAT?!!?)

So there we sit, at the table, reciting scenes and dialogue from Beetlejuice. (No one was looking at us like we were insane, but the waiter returned in record time with the check.) MTY just sat there, wondering why we are her parents. (Because we are the only 2 people on the planet who get the portrait of the green and orange skinned girl with pink hair on the paper tablecloth that MTY drew while eating her pasta, that's why.)

Now I am certain this is not my only omission to the Myrtles education, and, as previously stated, I shall be rectifying the situation ASAP. In the meantime, I am racking my brain for any other errors.

T.


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