Little Blue Bunnies

So, I’ve clearly explained to the kids that permanent tattoos of any kind anywhere on their bodies will lead to ruin and until they are ready, willing and able to support themselves in an environment that is accepting of body art, permanent tattoos are off limits.

I’ve also explained that if they choose to go the tattoo route , and they chose to ink on a very visible body part, they will have to work at Starbucks and accordingly will have to live off one free pound of coffee per week and an occasional piece of stale lemon pound cake that the manager will give them after closing as he takes pity on them. Of course, I made it through college on the same diet plan and did quite well, but at present, they haven’t figured out the magical allure of caffeine and sugar. Always make sure my threats are age appropriate as any good parent would do.

Now, the son hates coffee so he has been compliant so far. The daughter, not so much. In fact, she made the unilateral decision to get a sleeve of blue bunnies on her arm with permanent Sharpie ink. And, apparently, the son decided to remain a silent accomplice as he thought the tats would be a good experimental test on how far Mom’s blood pressure could go. He also relished the diversion of attention so he could launch his nefarious plans of staying up a whole hour late and not fully brushing his teeth before bed which he implemented successfully. Fortunately, he lost his first tooth several days later so I could point out to him the clear and obvious connection between not fully brushing one's teeth and them falling out. I did have to pay a little extra tooth fairy penalty for that one and did clarify a little bit later that I meant his permanent teeth, but I just could not initally let the opportunity pass. If life hands me a correlation on a platter, who am I to pass on the chance to use it for my own amusement?

So, the evening of the tats, Mia did not appear to be terribly thrilled about her choice after we again explained our position and the fact that we happen to like Starbuckis coffee and will try to mooch 1/2 a pound of it from her a week, leaving her with a 1/2 pound she will need to water down. And, apparently, she hates lemon flavored cake and wasn’t planning on it becoming her diet staple.

Oddly, she has been wearing her long sleeved princess dresses lately.

The Catholic Small Print at the Bottom....

So, for the benefit of all in the Roman Catholic Church, of which I am a member, I would suggest we add the following small print disclaimer to the bottom of any and all of our publications.

**Just in case anyone is confused, Mel Gibson who is divorcing his wife of 28 years and the mother of his 7-13 children is not one of us. Now, we recognize that he made an unbelievable movie called The Passion of the Christ and for that we absolutely applaud him, know he was given a gift, and would like to claim that part of him but that would be patently dishonest and we just can't go there. We just must give him the recognition he deserves for that. Mel, you did an awesome job.

But, we must still disclaim him. He is not one of us, the standard Roman Catholics. He is something called a Traditionalist which in layman's terms means he has his own church that apparently has some interesting beliefs and still says the mass in Latin. Latin, being a dead language, is generally not used in the Roman Catholic mass any longer as no one, except those who attended the good old fashioned schools that were led by ferocious nuns, understands it and they that did were probably often faking their understanding to avoid getting hit on the head with a stick anyway.

It also appears that Mel's love for Latin has also led him to other dead languages that no one understands as his movie Apocalypto demonstrated to the three people who saw it. Although, one must admit, if the language is dead and no one understands it, movie making gets a heck of a lot easier as you just tell the actors to make sounds up as they go and add your subtitles later when they come to you. Frankly, it is an admirable cost-cutting technique. Since there is no one on planet earth who could state that the dead Maya language is not correct, it is a pretty good plan. It is just really, really bad movies that are the issue.

Yes, we agree that perhaps, and just perhaps, Mel may have a wee bit of a drinking problem that is leading to his love of bar hopping with college age girls and his recent attempt to try to "counsel" Britney Spears alone and in person in some tropical local all of which, along with his performance at his arrest last year when we first had to disclaim him, might make sense when one hits about 12 on the Budweiser rating scale and, thankfully, not many of us can hit that number. And, for those who do not know of the Budweiser rating scale, it is a device that some Irish Catholics of the Roman type invented which is used for scurrilous purposes and neither it's use nor it's rankings are to be discussed or explained further. It is suggested that you contact a college kid for further explanation if necessary.

Now, we have had and of course still have our challenges which we claim and are fixing as fast as we can. And, we do know that Irish Catholic and Irish whiskey often appear in the same sentence and apparently, there is a reason for that. However, given that we didn't make Braveheart and have never seen a pot of money as big as that movie made, no one wants to put our brilliant thoughts of the week in People, Star and the National Enquirer over and over. It is also possible it is due to our thoughts generally being of the "I hope the kids have enough clean socks for school this week and if they don't is it possible that they can turn Thursday's pair inside out for Friday?" variety.

Nope, since we just can't get rise to offering "counseling" to Britney Spears, a disclaimer is still necessary. He isn't one of us but let's all hope he gets some help.