why i don’t have a gun

One of the highlights of living in Cowtown (Fort Worth, Texas) is the annual Fat Stock Show and Rodeo. It happens this time every year. That’s why it has “annual” in its name.

It’s a big deal around here. You even get a day off from school. It’s called Rodeo Day. But since most grown ups don’t get off work for “Rodeo Day” it’s just another day kids are out of school, leaving parents with this question, “What the hell am I supposed to *do* with you today? I have to work!”

At least that’s how it was at my house growing up. Rodeo Day for me and my brothers was a day spent at my grandmother’s house watching her “stories” with her. I remember the lineup. Ryan’s Hope. All My Children. One Life to Live. And General Hospital.

Rodeo Day sucked.

Now that I’m grown and have kids of my own, I always try to take the kids to the rodeo every year because I am still fucked up from childhood think they will enjoy it.

So last week I suggested we go and the family was all “Yay Mom, you’re the best!” Or that could have been the voices in my head.

What I think I actually heard was “I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO WEAR.” And I was like, “Calm down Ethan, you sound like a girl!”

Beat down and already wishing I hadn’t brought up the idea of going to the rodeo as a family, we trudged to the cowboy store to get cowboy things to wear to the cowboy event.

And this is what Harley came up with.

She looks exactly like the girl from Toy Story. If only I knew her name.

So we get to the Rodeo and what’s the first thing we see? A huge table filled with overpriced toys. Naturally Ethan makes a beeline there where I proceed to spend twenty dollars on crap that lights up and then breaks ten minutes later. Thanks a lot, China.

But what was worse than that was Ethan’s indecision on the toy selection. He wanted the light saber. No. Scratch that. The pop gun. No. Wait. Here’s a shiny pair of handcuffs. He’ll take those. No. Forget that. The light saber turns 3 different colors. Oh, but Harley picked out a light up butterfly necklace. He’ll have one too.

Do you think they sell *real* guns at a Texas rodeo? You know, so I CAN BLOW MY BRAINS OUT!!!

Once we got to our seats and the rodeo began, Ethan and Harley were fascinated with the pageantry of the horses running around the arena and the pretty girls carrying the American (and Texas) flags.

Then… the dude selling sweets came by and stole my happiness. Fucker.

I would like to blame someone for the fact that he's holding a snow cone AND a candy apple, but I'm afraid the person to blame is typing this right now

Finally, after eating his weight in junk food, Ethan started watching the show. He liked the calf roping and the bucking broncos, but he was holding out for the bull riding.

“When are the bulls coming?”

“In a minute. Look over there! That horse is pooping!”

“You said pooping.”

“I know. Poop is funny.”

Laughs and points at me. “You’re funny, Mommy. When are the bulls coming?”

“After this girl finishes making out with her horse.” (Seriously? It was a little weird. This woman was doing tricks with her horse and every time he did what she asked him to, she practically stuck her face in his mouth.)

“Will there be a lot of blood?”

???

“What are you talking about E?”

“When the cowboy kills the bull? Will we see blood?”

“THE COWBOY ISN’T GOING TO KILL THE BULL.”

Starts to cry. “But I want to see that.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m E-fun Thomas Gwenn.”

“Yes, I know who you’re *supposed* to be, but *my* son doesn’t want to see bulls being killed.”

Looks confused. “Who’s your son?”

“I don’t know. Eat your snow cone.”

Makes a face.

“Oh look! It’s time for the bull riding! Your favorite part!”

“I wanna go home.”

Sigh. I miss watching soap operas with my grandmother.

{ 14 comments }

this takes the cake

by Shauna on December 17, 2008

i was just reading a story about a 3 year old boy who was denied by the local grocery store of having his cake decorated with his full name…which happens to be adolf hitler.

in case you didn’t know this, hitler was a bad man–the worst. and really this kid’s parents shouldn’t be surprised at all about society’s squeamishness (aka outrage) to accept his rather unusual/horrific name. but alas, they are. and just so you know, these parents? not mensa candidates.

the dad made a comment like, “we’re not racist. we know people of other races and stuff and we don’t want them dead.” (you realize i’m paraphrasing. my version of what he said is funnier). “if my kid grows up and wants to be around other people besides white ones then that’s his choice. not all jewish people are bad. and we got some black kids in our neighborhood and everything. i think a couple of em even came to our house once.”

and then, “it’s just a name. it’s not like he’s going to grow up and be like hitler.”

yeah, but he’s going to get his ass kicked in a rainbow variety you idiot! and then you know what? he’s going to totally fucking hate you for naming him that. i’d sleep with one eye open if i were you, starting tonight.

to make things worse, he then dragged our new president into it! he said, “we’ve got a new president (who i’m learning to tolerate cuz he’s black and i’m a racist) and he says now is the time for change. so we’re trying something new. like getting everyone in america and the world to hate us–and our kids.”

apparently, this is nothing new for nazi family. they were also denied having a swastika iced on a cake a few years ago. what? no tree with a noose? maybe that’s next year’s cake. i can’t wait.

the story gets uglier because it turns out they have a 2 year old daugther whose name is joycelynn aryan nation. i swear to god i’m not making this up.

sigh.

why are people stupid? and why am i still surprised by them?

i have some advice for the family who are not nazis. here’s what you need to do. take cake decorating lessons. then, you can write whatever the hell you want to and you won’t end up on the front page of msn. well, that’s until your son named hitler who you’re not raising to be like the other hitler gets beat up for the 87th time and you sue america–or, he kills you.

i guess it could be worse. his name could be numbnuts mcboogereater.

now that would suck.

what name would you not want on your birthday cake?

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{ 7 comments }

the truth is…

December 12, 2008

…i’m exhausted. i don’t think i’ve been this tired in my whole life–not even when i was 8 months pregnant, four different times. (i say 8 months pregnant because i only made it to 9 months once thanks to my body’s misunderstanding of the 40 week gestastion period in humans–mine seems to think i’m a [...]

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letter to the husband (revisited)

December 2, 2008

dear hubs, i always thought you were the one. when i met you 10 years ago i said to myself, “girl, now this guy’s worth holding on to.” you were practically perfect in every way (it’s hard typing that sentence without busting out in laughter or falling out of my chair) and nothing you did [...]

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when the jar opener goes down

November 20, 2008

everyone, stop what you’re doing. we have a man down. i repeat, we have. a man. down. it appears that the tallest and strongest one in our house (he can open any jar i give him–yes, he’s THAT strong) has come down with the dreaded cold. i’m afraid it’s serious. all forward motion has come [...]

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i’m not gassy!

October 9, 2008

so, tommy and i left town this morning. we’re at the beach house in florida (it’s our anniversary). so we have four glorious days of doing nothing–except right now, he’s on the sofa with his laptop and i’m at the desk on mine. we haven’t spoken to each other in like 10 minutes except when [...]

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scrapbooking while watching midget porn

September 16, 2008

first off, yes, i’m ok. i haven’t died, changed my identity and moved away, or forgotten about you. i’ve just been off. uninspired. material-less. humor challenged. whatever you want to call it–that’s me. so thank you all for the emails that basically read like this: HEY! WHAT THE FUCK? WHEN YOU GONNA BLOG? well, my [...]

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wounded butterfly

September 7, 2008

if ever i was going to become a serious alcoholic/drug addict, this week would have been the time i started my new career. early in the week i had this to clean up. ethan, aka the golden boy, found an ink pad and decided it was a good idea to rub it all over himself. [...]

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