God Save the Queen

When I picked up my daughter from daycare the other day, I asked the obligatory, "Did she have a good day?"  I never know what the answer is going to be.  One time I was told when the other kids get too close to her personal space she yells, "Walk Away!"  No idea where she learned that.  But it's good to set boundaries.

This day was a little different.

Kathy: Did she have a good day?
Teacher: ....yes... except around lunch time she got mad at me and....well, she told me to "piss off."
Kathy: WHAT?  Where did you learn that? (looking at Tiny Human)
Tiny Human: *smiles* Mommy, mommy, mommy.  Go home and see Jangles?
Kathy: I have no idea where she learned that.  We don't ever say that.
Teacher: silence

 I am 100% certain that the teacher did not believe me.  I think she thinks Husband and I walk around and yell, "Piss off!" at each other.  I will be the first to admit that we are a little lax around here with our adult speak, but never in my life have I told someone to piss off.  I've thought about it, sure.  But I've never channeled my inner Ricky Gervais.

The obvious first conclusion that I came to is that Tiny Human has a Tiny British Friend.  In my mind, I imagine he he wears a three-piece suit and smokes a cigar.  I fancy that he resembles Winston Churchill.  


So here I sit with a foul-mouthed child and it's not actually my fault.  I figured she'd start using "grown-up" words once football season started up.  But no!  She is an over-achiever.  Advanced, as I like to say.  She's picking up phrases from the outside.

I racked my brain and couldn't think of any British influence that could have taught her such a thing.  She does watch Peppa Pig, but I don't think Peppa's family tells each other to piss off.  Mainly they just make messes and laugh...they are a lot like our family.  Except they are British pigs.

I tried to think about what Dr. Huxtable did when he found that joint in Theo's geometry book.  He asked him about it, in a non-accusatory way, believed him, and then that was it.  Eventually the hooligan came over and apologized and he and Theo went to play football in the snow.

Well, it's summer here, so that plan is not going to work.  And if I ask her who taught her that, she will just start naming off people she knows.  Mommy, Daddy, Jangles, Gigi, Uncle Matt...you could all be implicated.

And so, I've come to the conclusion that the only way to address this situation is to teach her more British catch phrases.  This will be her "bit."  You can't get in trouble if you are just doing your bit, right?  Right.

So, I'm thinking these.  Feel free to chime in with any suggestions.  And remember, she's not quite 2 years old yet.

Oh Bloody Hell! One of my favorites.  Just really gets your point across about how ridiculous you find the current situation to be.  Example: You want me to eat peas and cauliflower again?  Oh bloody hell!

Blimey! It has a very Mr. Bean feel to it. It's a way to express surprise at something.  I might actually start using this myself.  Blimey!  I can't believe this Starbucks fancy fruit water is $4!

Bobs Your Uncle!  It's how the Brits say "ta da!" It's funny.  Could probably be a issue since her uncles are not named Bob, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there.

Cheeky!  Apparently this means you are flippant and a know-it-all.  God knows we've got enough of those in this house.  And she loves monkeys right now, so I think it could work.

So that's my plan, people.  Turn this negative right around and make it positive.  It's gonna be adorable.  People from all over will want to meet the little tot who speaks like a Brit with an Oklahoma accent.  It's going to be #epic.  And if it's not, piss off.

A drunk cat in overalls goes on the lam

I'm starting to think not having any sports in my life is making me boring.  I've officially morphed into a middle-aged man.

It has become a regular occurrence for people to ask me, "Are you going to blog about this?"  I usually just shrug.  Maybe.  Maybe not.  I have to write about something, right?  But my life has hit a lull.  I can trace this directly back to the end of the World Cup.  I think I've entered summer doldrums.  I actually have no idea what doldrums are, but that word seems fitting.

So...in an attempt to ignite my creative juices, here is a peak into my life at this very moment.

Drunk History. I have a new favorite show.  It's called Drunk History and it's on Comedy Central.  Simple concept.  Get people hammered and have them tell some historical story.  It's the reenactments that are key.  Because you know how drunk people tell stories? Slow and repetitive and they often lose their train of thought in the middle.  That's what this show is with actors acting it out.  I come close to peeing my pants every time I watch it.

A cat in overalls.  Last night, I was perusing Twitter.  I was flipping through a strangers pictures, because, you know, you can do that on Twitter.  So it looks like in addition to being a middle-aged man, I'm also an internet creep.  Batting a thousand over here.  Anyway, I stumble across the above picture that has been made into a meme.  And I just couldn't handle it.  I laughed so hard I cried. Actual tears. I mean, it's a cat.  In overalls.  Why is this the funniest thing I've ever seen?  And where can I find a pair for  Mr. Bojangles?

Close but so far.  Also on tap on the television lately has been I Almost Got Away with It.   I stumbled upon this show by accident but was immediately drawn in.  The story went something like this: two guys, who both look remarkably like Goldberg, decide they want to escape from county jail.  So they Shawshank their way out of the place.  Seriously, they burrowed through the wall.  In order to get through security, they pretend to be construction workers, and amazingly it worked.  They run away to some town where hoodlums gather and just start up a fun life.  Then one of them gets pulled over by the cops for driving a stolen car.  Oh no!  The jig is up, right?  Nope.  He just tells the cops, "Hey, this is my car.  I don't have my ID though.  Cool?"  And the cop is all, "yep, that's cool."  Then the cops raid a house they are staying at and they hide in the closet.  They take them to jail, but it's such a small town they let them go and tell them, "Next time, don't hide in the closet." It was fascinating, really.  Remind me if I ever go on the run, I should definitely do it in Kentucky.  In the end, the Goldbergs did get caught and they are back in the pokey.  But it was a valiant run.

Yes.  No. Maybe.  And finally, the only sporting news I do have to report is that I didn't really learn anything through Big XII media days.  According to our fearless leader, Coach Gundy, JW Walsh may be the starting quarterback.  But maybe not.  He won't say.  We like to keep it a mystery, I suppose.  Just in case Wes Lunt shows back up on campus, we want to keep our options open.  I also learned that our running back Devon Thomas who was arrested and charged with armed robbery for breaking into someone's house, holding them at gunpoint in an attempt to steal their weed and then telling them to leave may or may not be still on the team.  I mean, he's not on the roster.  But we can't confirm that he's not on the team.  Glad we cleared that up.

I mean do we need someone who is this bad at decision making on the team?  He committed multiple crimes in front of these people who he knew and then told them to leave.  You know who won't be making an appearance on I Almost Got Away with It?  Devon Thomas, that's who.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Things could be worse

Things have been a little frustrating around these parts lately.  I'm pulling a major Eeyore over here, and my tail just cannot be found.  It's a sad state of affairs, indeed.

In an effort to pull myself out of the funk and get a better attitude, I've been looking for the bright side.  For example, in our new neighborhood people don't quite get the concept of 4th of July.  Instead, they set off fireworks all summer long.  Yep, ballastic missiles over our house almost every night.  You know that show they put on over Boston Harbor on the 4th?  They do that on our street every night.  Fun.  As I set up a temporary bed for Tiny Human in our closet so she could sleep through the air-raid attack from unlawful combatants, I thought to myself, "It could be worse...at least they haven't set our house on fire."  See what I did there?  I took a negative and found something positive.  Like freakin' Ghandi or Mr. Rogers.

Two separate things happened recently that made me realize, it's not all doom and gloom, Kath.  Things really could be worse.

For instance, yesterday I got caught behind a semi-truck full of chickens on my way to work.  Feathers were everywhere.  I assumed that all these chickens were dead.  And I, of course, was wrong.  As I passed the semi, I noticed several of them pecking.  God knows what they were pecking at...the air?  their sanity?  remnants of their hopes of dreams to be free-range?  I instantly felt sad for those chickens. I couldn't help but think of how terrifying it would be to be in a cage facing backwards driving down the highway. I decided right then and there, no matter what, at least I'm not a chicken on a semi.  And that my friends, means I'm winning.

Another eye-opening experience happened at the seedy local gas station I like to frequent.  I choose to go to the scariest gas station within five miles of our home because they have the cheapest gas.  I'm willing to risk my personal safety for savings at the pump.  Besides, I like scary gas stations.  To me, they are very Americana.

So as I was purchasing my gum and drink, the following interaction happened:

*Kathy pays with debit card*
*Another patron, who is ignoring the social norms of personal space, looks over my shoulder*

Stranger: Oooooh girl, you've got your picture on your card!
Kath: Yep.  It prevents people from stealing all my money
Stranger: Mmmhmmm, I heard that.  Better than having it on your forehead
Kath (confused by the turn in conversation): Yep
Stranger: No, I'm serious.  In places like Arizona they put it on your forehead.  Or right here on your wrist (shoves wrist in my face).

At this point, I have no idea what is going on.  And I'm filled with questions...  Did something change in Arizona after I left?  Are they tattooing people's foreheads with credit card information?  Or did he mean they put your picture on your forehead?  Because that seems a bit redundant.  Why would you need a picture on your forehead of yourself?  That's what your face is for.

I left the gas station (in a hurry) feeling assured that things could definitely be worse.  I could live in Arizona still where Bank of America makes you tattoo your face.

You don't see that every day

Let's go ahead and file this blog under "Kathy's Crime Beat" or "Oklahoma City Oddities."  Either will suffice.

Sometimes, I think that people think I make stuff up.  And by "sometimes" I mean most of the time.  And sure, I have been known to exaggerate once or twice.  Okay, maybe three times.  But it is always for the sake of telling a better story.  And there are many a time that people question the stories I tell.  But hand to God, I promise you weird crap happens around or to me on a regular basis.  This is the life of Kathy and all I'm doing is passing the stories along.  So one day, you can tell your children about them.  Here are a few things that I noticed in the last week that were just a hair out of the norm.  It's up to you whether you believe me or not.

Hey, I recognize you!  As I visited the local Kinkos, I patiently waited in line behind an interesting young man.  As I looked at him through the corner of my eye, I was drawn to the square tattooed on his face.  I wondered to myself, "Why would one tattoo a square on their face? That doesn't even make sense." It totally shatters the reasonable decision to tattoo your face in the first place.  And then he turned as he was speaking to the clerk and I saw that it was not in fact a square, it was the state of Oklahoma.  On his face.  ON HIS FACE.

I had so many thoughts all at once and then I had an epiphany.  This was Zero.  He is a local rap artist who produces music videos outside of furniture stores.  I know this because I read the Lost Ogle.  It was like a mini-celebrity sighting.  I kept looking at him, looking for any other key identifiers.  Then he looked at me and I realized that I should stop staring at him before he shanked me.  You just don't expect this kind of drama and action to go down at the local copy store.


If you have seen this suspect.  Yesterday as I was driving to lunch, I saw a man talking to a police officer on the corner.  He was handing the officer a drawing that it appeared he had done...of a crime suspect.  Or at least that's what I deduced from my car.  I'm sure you are wondering, "Kath, where are you going to lunch?"

I desperately wanted to take a picture, because how many times do you see a citizen handing a cop a picture that they drew of a criminal suspect?  I can tell you how many times.  One.  I resisted the urge to Instagram the moment, because I felt like if I was questioned about why I took that picture my only good response would be, "I'm nosey."  Maybe I'd identify myself as a "concerned citizen."  I hear that's what old people like me do.

So here is my question: Are you allowed to just draw your own pictures?  I thought you had to go "down to the station" for stuff like that.  No?  Just grab a pencil and go to work?  And if someone is getting on my nerves, can I draw a picture of them and give it to police and tell them I suspect they have committed a crime?  I'm asking for a friend of course.

I found the entire thing very confusing and it left me with a lot more questions than answers.  But in case you are wondering, the suspect appears to be a white male, in his 30s with dark hair.  He did not have an Oklahoma face tattoo, so Zero is in the clear.  *Phew!*