Harrumph
Peeve Numero Uno: The new mother at my daughter's classroom who hangs around at both drop off and pick up times having long, extraordinarily intense conversations with my daughter's teacher.Peeve Numero Dos: My daughter's teacher allowing herself to be caught up in these conversations while the usual chaos erupts around her.
Peeve Numero Tres: The other Montessori parents who not only drive ostentatiously gas-guzzling behemoths, but are so busy, busy, busy that they are on their phones before they even leave the lot, creating potentially lethal situations for those of us arriving with our children. Please, folks--give it a rest!
Bonus round, for those of you kind enough to read my ranting: My daughter has been obsessed lately with the time when we "ate cheetah." At first I thought this was a game in reference to a beloved stuffed friend. Then I thought it was omnivore confusion: she calls all cooked meat "chicken" unless it's sliced, in which case it's "turkey." Only today did she provide enough back story for me to figure out that she means...(wait for it)...Chee-tos. She's referring to a picnic lunch we had while visiting friends at the hospital some 6 months ago. Why did it take me so long to see the obvious? Because Chee-tos are the kind of crap I feed myself, not what I feed her. Wow--who knew the taste of junk food had such a half-life?
Labels: Mindless kvetching
posted by Unknown @ 7:40 AM
7 Comments
