Bedtime Stories

Just to ruminate here...we read a dictionary-esque book again tonight(Sebastian´s pick, what is it with the kid and dictionaries?) about space and building colonies on the Moon and Mars. Since we are so near NASA, it´s cool, it´s fitting and above all everyone is interested in the unknown here. Somehow the conversation devolved to the fact that G.W. (my personal irritant) lives in the same state as us. Immediately eyebrows crease in worry, the enemy is too near, we have to get out of here looks...ever experienced those? Should you answer no, consider yourself grateful. Tonight, I saw those worried eyebrows and, silly mama, I thought to put them at ease. Long story short I told my children: "Don´t worry, if I find out where George lives, I´m going to bend him over my knee and smack him on the bottom with my wooden spoon from Africa! AND I´m going to start a group *100,000 Mothers to Spank George W. Bush With a Wooden Spoon* Wait until you see the line!"

Well, that was just hilarious to the under eight and not politically educated crowd. Me, the person that detests the notion of spanking and hated the threat of the wooden spoon, wants to smack G.W. on the bottom. Actually the mominatrix in me kind of likes the idea of him squealing for mercy and yes, that is in print! Fast forward to me putting rice away after the story, with my Mexican wooden spoon. Roarke in his three year old wisdom saw the girth of that spoon and his reply was: "Mommy, that would smack bigger than the spoon from Africa! You can put that in your purse and smack George Bush on the bottom with that one when we find his ranch. He´ll really be sorry then." Oh, Roarke...how I wish you never knew a politicians name, how I wish you weren´t so painfully smart somedays. But really, Roarke, you did make me laugh in a very strange fashion. My mothering is so unorthodox I´m sure I´ll hear the criticism but just so all you critics know, I ended the conversation on how Bono shook G.W.´s hand to work for change. Furthermore, you should know Bono is the modern Jesus for my children because really wouldn´t Jesus be a rockstar now? No one listens to the radical religious person in this mixed up United States of America.

Still, I think I have some wooden spoons itching to make contact with an old white man´s behind! Oh, the thrill of it all! (But so not parenting peace...)