It's pretty obvious, I've got a big mouth. Actually, I don't (in 'real' life), but here, yes, I talk too much. Victor, they ain't belted in. I know that, you know that, they know that. Anyways......
I Googled "things you shouldn't share" expecting numero uno on the list to be "Exactly how things went in bed with Susie last night."
The things you shouldn't share list that pulled up: Underwear, Deodorant, Pumice stones/emory boards/hairbrushes.. makeup.. toothbrushes.. water bottles.. razors/tweezers... towels.. (They missed rectal thermometers.)
No, no, no, I mean "what things should you keep private?" I found a list of 6. The first to keep private "Your biggest dreams and goals." This confused me, for, ever since we've been old enough to steal other kid's toys outta the sandbox, we've been asked "What do you want to be when you grow up?" You get teacher, artist, cook, doctor, lawyer, nurse, bus driver, musician, yada.. Mine was cinchy, I wanted to be a ball player. Well, I made it, kinda. I played for 7 decades, I just never made a dime doing so. (That ain't a brag, it's more about a love.) Like my very cute 5 year old niece back in the day. She loved dogs. "I want to be a vegetarian when I grow up." Certainly obtainable! The article said letting others know your dreams and goals to actually accomplish them later. Forever, I've been a simpleton, I'll admit. i just don't get this one,
2. Your private life. OK, I get it. Scroll back to my big mouth. I don't mean any harm here. I hopefully, occasionally bring a smile, or, conjure up a memory about something in your world, life. We all share some private things, kinda sorta. I mean, we spend time looking at friends travel pics (their private life), recipes, sayings, fun memes, or watching video of little Ethan's soccer game where he scores a goal in the wrong goal. Fun, private kinda stuff. I do understand one shouldn't share sensitive information, gotcha.
3. Your family problems. OK, gotcha. Although, I do remember once, or, seven times, mentioning "she rode off on a Harley." Hey, I was telling a story, it was needed info! I abhor reading comments about family problems. Agreed.
4. Your material belongings. There all right behind me now, here. I'd take a picture but it's pretty messy. There's a garden hose.. a log chain I bought when I wrecked my car, hooked it around a tree, straightened the frame in the rear of the car. That's about all that are worth anything. Not a problem for me. Victor, in a way, you're violating two rules. #2 up there, your private life, how po' you are. and #4, lack thereof. Ahm, OK. Send me to the principal's office. I hope it's a female and she's got a big ole paddle. Begesus Victor, surely SEX is #5, don't share sex. Well, OK, but may I ask, do you share sex, or, do you keep it to yourself, you little pervy! Move on Victor. OK said Alvin.
5. You acts of kindness. Comprende. You don't hear it said often, but happens.
6. Your money. What about lack thereof? VICTOR! Sorry, kinda.
See, I was gonna do a blog about that.. then.. I didn't like it.. So I was gonna do one about the sandbox.. You know, where we learn the rules of life. Ask before taking. This would include shovels, trucks, toy road graders, trucks, purses, billfolds and catalytic converters. You should say things like "May I use your shovel....or your purse.. or your converter."
"When you share with others, they will share with you." Sometimes I'm a giver, moreso hopefully verbally than physical gifts (there you go again Victor, TMI).. and we could combine #2 (private life) plus #3 family problems plus #5 money, but then, I think most of us have children, so we "get it." Sorry to gripe, kinda.
"Respect other kids' sand creations." Sure, understand. Most sandboxes ain't very big however. Most in sandboxes can't say words with two syllables, so this might be tough to teach.
"Use kind, strong words. Encourage your child to use kind, strong words to stand up for himself or ask for what he needs in the sandbox. If someone takes a toy he was using, refrain from swooping in and retrieving it for him. Instead, help him find the right words to ask for it back." You mean like, "Look here bitch, hand me that bucket over or I'm gonna open a skull wound on them curly locks with my shovel!" (VICTOR... please keep your private life to yourself. I CAN'T! I was once in an inner circle of friendship with someone that taught first grade. This person didn't do the 7:30am to 3:30pm first grade thing, this person was that 'teacher' (I call it 'character') 24/7, every way, shape or form, but mostly dialect. It was very strange to be in a room of 20-30-somethings to here someone speak to the crowd as if we were five. I wanted to open a skull wound..VICTOR! Sorry.
OK, so we kinda get the Hamilton Beach blender thing. You were having trouble (again) coming up with something to write, so you did multiple things, TMI, things you shouldn't share (items and otherwise)... life in the sandbox.. and we kinda get the "Beach part" of Hamilton Beach due to the sandbox, is that what you meant?
Well, kinda. Yes, blender blog. Yes, kinda sorta sand, beach. Moreso, I remembered back to a glorious time I was at a Beach on St. Thomas. Four of us. Sitting at the edge of the ocean, watching, feeling, enjoying as the waves came in, and out, and in and out. There was a gal that walked a mile or so along this sandy beach, back and forth to the Corona shack, bringing us Corona's. By the time we'd sat there for an hour plus, both me and the other fellow stood up to walk to the car and we each had like two pounds of sand in our cracks (and sacks, TMI, sorry again.) You prompted that story. I wasn't gonna tell it. Really not all it's cracked up to be.
I'll go.
Tune in tomorrow when I'll tell that story of the time I was in bed, heart racing, I'm talking huge palpitations, sweating profusely, the bed was a rattlin', sweet nothings were being whispered (and hollered) and then.... and then... I woke up. Yeah, that's it. We'll talk about dreams.
Victor? Yes. You are aware you just cut that guy in the SUV off aren't you? He's probably gonna come back and kill us. Relax, he was happy! In fact, he was telling me he was from California because when he passed he waved and said "SUNNY BEACH!"
Some blogs are better than others.
Love, Victurd
No comments:
Post a Comment