In which I begin to sympathize with the Walmart Child Slapper

Not really. But, then again...

Today I went to the store to find a pair of capri pants. I have this great pair of pants that I dearly love which I found early in the spring. I have worn them constantly and I recently realized life would be grand if I had one or two more of these pants in one or two more colors. What was not smart about this plan is that you can not expect to go into a store three months after a purchase - and once all the fall clothes are on full display - and expect to find the exact same pair of capri pants in your size in great colors. I didn't think this thing through very well.

Disappointed that the only pants I could find exactly like my favorites were white. I don't do white pants. I have six very wiggly, squealing, wipe-my-chocolate-lips-on-your-white-pants reasons NOT to buy white pants. It's a commitment I made to myself many chocolate stains ago.

I did find a variety of capri pants NOT like my favorites which meant I had to try them on. I loathe department store dressing rooms. Actually loathe is too gentle a term for how I feel about the flourescent lights which add forty pounds and forty inches to my hips. Instantly. But, one must do what one must do if they hope to have capri pants late in the season. So, I mustered up my resolve and I went in.

While completely despondent over my thighs in a 3-way mirror, I heard some children running up and down the hall in front of my dressing room. Annoying little twits they were. I chalked up my annoyance to the roller coaster of emotion flooding me while staring at things that should never be uncovered under the glare of a flourescent light.

Then I heard it. A bizzare tearing sound. The kind of sound you hear in a fabric department when the ladies are cutting the good stuff. You, know how they put a little cut in the fabric, grab it in two fists and yank a perfect straight line tear right through the fabric? That was the sound. I, while wearing capri pants that looked like I had been poured into a bright blue wet suit that would have made Superman proud, tentatively opened my door and peeked out. There right outside my door were two children. Two girls approximately ages 9 and 11, I'm guessing. Old enough to know better, is what I'm saying. One was laughing while the other one was tearing FULL SHEETS of wallpaper from the wall outside my door.

It was one of those, "You're kidding me, right?" moments. I really couldn't believe these two little minions were so brazen as to destroy the wall in a dressing room while SURROUNDED by adult women staring at all their lumps and bumps under flourescent lighting. The gall.

While other people stood there speechless I, bolstered by the lack of circulation to my lower extremities, said in quite the firm 'teacher' voice, "You do not need to be tearing up that wall." Silence while she looked at the floor and her older sister stood there giggling... surely at her sister getting reamed and not at me in my bright blue spandexish capris. Then I boomed a little louder, "Go find your mother!"

It was then that she did it. She gave me the most evil glare. A glare that said, "I don't have to listen to you." A glare that said, "Shut up, stupid lady." A glare that said, "I can do whatever I want." A glare that said, "You're not the boss of me." It was a glare that spoke volumes. And, it was a glare that made me want to snatch her up, turn her over my bright blue knee and introduce her to the rod of correction.

But, unlike the maniac in Walmart, I did not act on my impulse. But understand the impulse, I do. I realllllllllly do. There is nothing that chaps my ample hide like a disrespectful, destructive, disobedient child. N.O.T.H.I.N.G.

Flibby was in the hallway of the dressing area and since I obviously could not leave the dressing room in blue spandex, I told her to go inform the store security that there was a little brat girl in the dressing room tearing up their wall. Then I shut the door. To say the little girls left at the speed of light, never to be seen again is a bit of an understatement.

Do I think they learned a lesson. Not even close. Lack of respect for property and lack of respect for adults are lessons that have been ingrained in their entitled little brains so firmly that a scolding from a lady in bright blue spandex had absolutely no effect, I am quite sure.

It's a little taste of what's wrong with the world today. That and the way my hips fit into bright blue capri pants prove we live in a fallen world.

The Indoctrination of our Children

I have so much to say on this issue. So very much to say. Alas, as you've no doubt noticed, I haven't been around this dusty old blog lately. It's been summer and now it's fall. Along with fall comes another whole season of 'busy'. I'll be back shortly. How can I not when Obama is providing me so much blog fodder?

Until then, I must express my disgust and disbelief at the September 8th 'Pledge Your Allegiance to Me' Obamamercial that will be directed at all impressionable young minds K - 6. There is a 'I pledge' video which is an attempt to indoctrinate us in Obama worship to a cultish degree. This video has already been played for school students in a few areas.


There are the 'study materials' distributed to all the schools asking school children write a letter (among other pro-Obama activities) saying what they will do to help the president. Help the president? How about help the nation. Help your family. Help your community. But, the president? My child's essay would be three words long: VOTE HIM OUT! I wonder what grade he would receive.

The Headmistress writes:

It may well be a generic 'study hard, work hard, and do well in school' message. In fact, the more people squawk, the more likely that's all it will be as his speech gets watered down and the study guide gets rewritten.

And much as I dislike the President's policies and his dishonesty about them, I do totally get the historical significance of having the first Black President address
school children on the first day of school (though it isn't the first day of school for everybody). There is a cool factor there that I can't dismiss and am even sympathetic to.

But here's the thing. It's common for Presidents to visit a classroom from time to time and read a book to schoolchildren. But this is something new- scheduling a nationwide address to all schoolchildren, and expecting schools to interrupt the school day to do so, so the President can have the unprecedented opportunity to address those minor children without their parents there with them- AND releasing a taxpayer funded 'study guide' in order to frame the way the children perceive and receive that message. It's also troublesome that the DOE bypassed the local school boards and the parents and timed their message to coincide with the first day of school so there would be less time for people to hear about it and object.

If this is okay with you- would it have been perfectly acceptable had Bush done the same thing? Would it be okay for a Nixon or a Reagan?

Good question, Headmistress.

Click here to read President Obama to Address the Nation's Children on First Day of School in its entirety.

Updated to add:

The Headmistress has now written her own study guide to the Obama indoctrination speech. I endorse it, promote it, and require you to use it. (Hey, if Obama can do it, why can't I?)