So, buckling under the crushing weight of peer pressure, my son is now interested in Pokémon. No joke. Shouldn’t that be passé by now???? Clearly not. At the school book fair, he purchased this:
I’m not kidding when I say this has to be the worst book EVER. Here’s a typical sample of writing:
Dawn’s Solaceon Contest combination is called Rainbow Swift. When Ambipom spins and uses Swift, it fills the Contest auditorium with brilliant stars!
What. The. Hell. Are. They. Talking. ABOUT???
The ENTIRE book is like that.
Brock and Croagunk enter the Pokémon Dress-Up Contest, but Brock doesn’t expect to win. His Croagunk is excellent at imitating Politoed, but it’s competing against Ash’s Pikachu and a champion Chatot. But when Team Rocket tries to steal the prize, Croagunk stays in character even while it helps chase them down. That dedication earns Brock and Croagunk first place and a prize Pokémon egg!
This is what is offered at a school book fair??? More to the point: this is what is considered “a book?” (You’ll notice that I find no fault in the parent that bought the book.) SIGH. No wonder why kids today are illiterate and are in need of meds. This book makes me want to like down and take some Valium.
The only good that has come of this book is that he spends a lot of time drawing the characters:
I think that’s pretty cute. Like mom…like son…spending hours drawing pictures! Perhaps next time I should get him a book on the works of Albrecht Durer? Wouldn’t that be more educational? Or is that kind of beyond tiger mom and bordering more on Tasmanian devil mom? In reality, I’m more like three-toed sloth mom:
This is what I’m like most of the time. It’s kind of sad.
I have gotten some stuff done…but the house is still a mess. Here’s what I’ve been doing instead of housework:
So, I made this silk blouse! I also dyed it! Isn’t it cool? It was a bit longer, but it took me three attempts to hem the thing. Sewing silk is like trying to staple olive oil. It’s kind of a slippery mess. Anyway…I think that I got the hang of it, somewhat.
Hmm. I need more practice ironing clothes, though. So, this is the kind of think that I thought that I’d try to sell on Etsy. What do you think????
Because I have no standards, I actually wear what I make. The question is not only: “would anyone else wear this?” but also: “would anyone PAY MONEY to wear this?” Hmm. Not sure. I suppose if I had Giselle Bundchen to model it, perhaps. I would have to specify in the listing that I am ONLY selling the shirt, and that Giselle is not included. Honesty is the best policy! Really, at that point…I could probably put a trash bag on her and sell it, right??? Hmm. I have some marketing challenges here…does anyone who looks like Giselle Bundchen want to model clothes for me? No? Oh well.
If my taste in clothes is not weird enough, I’ve also taken up a new hobby: ice hockey.
I’m kind of obsessed with it. It’s beyond fun. It’s hard being a beginner, though, as there’s so much to learn! There are also so many opportunities to hurt oneself! Actually, at the level that I play at, it’s pretty tame. Any injury that I get would probably be self-inflicted. Kind of like this:
THAT is one of my favorite movie moments. Does anyone know what this is from??? If I had anything of value, I’d give you a prize for the correct answer. I’ll give you a hint: Ruprecht.
Okay, well that’s enough nonsense for one afternoon! Now, I have to “get to work” doing something besides housework. Wish me luck!
So, I continue to be up to my eyeballs in colored rubber bands from my son’s rainbow loom.
Those bands are EVERYWHERE. I think that they’re breeding. We have an infestation. Send help.
Not only are they tedious to pick up…they are even more tedious to sort by color. If anyone out there is looking for a kind of mindless “zen” activity, please come over and sort rubber bands:
I’m thinking that my son might be a bit OCD with this stuff. He makes things CONSTANTLY. Here is a fraction of his rubber band creations:
It’s bordering on crazy. He has made a bajillion bracelets:
Wait! But there’s more! You can make people!
…and turtles, tacos, bananas, carrots, hamburgers and prehistoric clubs!
…and other random stuff!
SIGH. I know. How can I judge? Don’t I have a bevvy of random “crap”, I mean, “creations” too? I see that I’ve passed down to my son the insatiable desire to MAKE STUFF. His level of “making” is bordering on cray cray, though…don’t you think? Is he going to be 40 years old, living in my basement, up to his armpits in bizarre rubber band thingys while he furiously makes more???? Why can’t he get that inspired to mop or dust???? (I suppose that I should ask myself that question, really.)
He’s not the only one obsessed:
Recently, at JoAnn Fabrics, I lost track of my son, only to find him clutching fifteen bags of red rubber bands. Apparently, he was planning on making this hat.
No. Freaking. Way.
Rainbow loom is not just for kids, though:
Steve Jobs is rolling over in his grave because of this one…
I told my son that he should take up knitting!!! That isn’t quite as messy. Maybe he’ll be the next Kaffe Fassett or Brandon Mably? Hmmm…maybe not, as he went to school today with his shirt inside out because that’s what his friends are doing. So much for his aesthetic sense…sigh. I’m going back to trying to clean up all of these bands, a.k.a. “what did I do in a past life to deserve this?”