This Blog Entry Does Not Have Its Own Song

OK, so here's the deal. Lucky for you, your Glamma bought you a memborship to Gymboree for Christmas. Now, Glamma bought you this memborship because (if you haven't already guessed) your dad is a cheap ass (yes, like a Gemini as we learned last week), and the people who run Gymboree are filthy, money grubbers who would probably kill a baby seal incapable of defending itself if it would add an extra dollar or two to their bottom line. These are the same people that charge...oh, I don't know...something like $18 million for a 3 month membership.

And, that my fellow English majors is a hyperbole, not an exageration. Let us never be accused of exageration, because we are perfect in every way and by "we" I mean "your mom."

OK. So, here we are at Gymboree this last Saturday with about 15 other couples who either bought stock in Microsoft or sold their pancreas to the black market, because all of them seem to have no trouble with the $19 million dolloar memborship fee. Yes, we know, the memborship fee went up a million dollars during the last paragraph. It's called inflation people and it's necessary in a capitalist society, so get used to it and stop complaining because you pay more for 8 oz of coffee than you do for an entire gallon of gas and then you bitch about it. I don't want to hear it.

But, damn, the price of gas is awfully expensive lately.

FOCUS!! Ok, there is a point to this story! So, every week during our Gymboree time (which is Saturday morning for those of you who are stalkers), we have "circle time" where the parents form a circle, the kids play with each other in the center of said circle, your mother and I wait for you to hit the other kids cuz it makes us laugh, and each week we go around the circle answering "The Question of the Week" - which by the way is, like, the ONLY thing at Gymboree that doesn't have it's own theme song.

So, this past week, the "Question of the Week" was: How do you handle the stress of being a parent? Your mom and I happened to go first because....well, we don't know, but we did and we answerd the question like normal humans. It went something like this: "Well, as soon as Ayjia's sweet, adorable head hits the pillow, we run to our bedroom, remove our clothing and try to make her a sibling."

OK, that was an exageration, not a hyperbole. NOW you can accuse us of exagerating.

Ok, maybe it went something like this: "As soon as we put her down for a nap or down for bed, we take adult time and watch movies, surf the net, and talk shit about everyone else in this circle." I don't remember exactly, but it was something pretty close to that. It doesn't matter, what we said IS NOT THE POINT OF THIS STORY. Ok, so the REST of the incredibly rich, non-human parents who participated in circle time answered something like this: "Um, like, yeah...our kid is, like, THE BEST kid ever. He/She is in the 90th percentile of weight, the 99th percentile of height, he/she eats every meal to the very end in perfect silence without creating mess, and he/she was just accepted into Harvard because he/she is so smart."

And that is no exageration. Ok maybe the college part...but the rest of the stuff people actually said.

So, our dear Ayjia, as you learn to talk, if you ever get the urge to shout out, "I AM SURROUNDED BY FREAKIN' IDIOTS!" then we will understand. And we won't even make you sing a song about it.