The Queen of Static Cling

There are some mothers I know who are so obsessive about their kids’ appearance that they carry entire kiddy wardrobes around with them so when their kids get dirty, they can strip the kids down on the spot and change their clothes.

Of course this can start to become pretty embarrassing for the kids by the time they hit 12 or 13.

It also means mounds more laundry than is really necessary. But really, what’s a few hundred more loads when your reputation as SuperMom, Defender of All that is Good and Clean, is at stake?

Fortunately, this has never been a particularly important goal for me. My kids get one outfit a day: If it gets dirty, they wear it dirty.  Do I care that half the time they look like they rolled in garbage.  Of course I do.  But I’ve come to realize that a clean kid is somehow unnatural.  It goes against nature. It’s like having a clean dog: It’s cosmically unattainable.
None of this is to say that I don’t do laundry.  Truthfully, I do laundry almost every day. I am the Queen of laundry.  And sometimes, I actually fold it and bring it upstairs the same week, too.  But in the grand scheme of laundry issues, I have much bigger fish to fry.

My thing, is static cling. I’m not talking about the static that makes my daughter’s hair wrap around her head like some electric comb-over.  Nor is it the static that my son likes to create when he purposely shuffles across the carpet in his socks and then zaps my nose.  And no, it’s not the static that makes the dog look like a canine Don King.

No, what I’m talking about is the evil, fabric-softener-defying, dryer-sheet-resisting, winter static build-up IN THE DRYER that causes all the clothes to come out in one big, shocking, static clump.

Call me crazy, but I want sparks to fly when I kiss my husband, not when I peel my clothes apart.

“Aaaaarrrrggghhhhhh,” I groaned as I pulled a sock from a towel and got zapped.  “I HATE STATIC CLING!!!!”

“What’s the big deal,” said my husband.  “Just get some of those dryer sheets.”

I glared at him.  “They don’t work.” He shrugged and went back to reading his magazine while I folded the shocking pile of laundry.  Sure what does he care… I’m the one who had to run static interference all season.  By the time the socks got in his drawer, they had been surgically separated from the rest of the clump and are nice and fluffy and static-free.

But sometimes, somehow, one escapes.

Such was the case the day I went to our town hall on business.  While I stood talking to one of the officials, one of his associates behind me said, “There’s something stuck inside the hood of your sweatshirt.”

With an audible static charge, he peeled the offending article away from my hood and dangled it out for all of us to see:

A pair of women’s black thong underwear.

We all stood paralyzed for a moment with my underwear suspended between his thumb and forefinger.  The men looked at me expectantly, but my mind was a blank.  Finally, I came out of my coma, grabbed the panties and said the first thing that came into my head.

“Oh,” I laughed.  “Those are my husband’s.”

©2012, Beckerman. All rights reserved.
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All the Presidents’ Vacations

In honor of Presidents’ Day, I thought it would be fitting to rerun my Presidents’ Vacation Rant.  As they say during summer rerun season on TV, if you haven’t seen it, then it’s new to you.

I’m just as patriotic as the next girl.  I sing the National Anthem at baseball games. I vote in every election. Heck, my daughter was even born on the 4th of July, although I think that was more her decision than mine.

However, there’s one thing I just don’t get. Why is school closed for an entire week in honor of the Presidents’ birthdays?

Yes, I know George Washington was the Father of our Country, and Abraham Lincoln’s stand on slavery was the first critical step toward racial equality in this country.

But why should we dedicate a whole week of school vacation to these guys and nothing at all for the other forefathers (and foremothers) who’ve made an impact on the old U.S. of A.  How about a day for Betsy Ross? The poor woman sewed her little heart out without the benefit of an electric sewing machine to make us the incredible flag we have today.  And then there’s Ben Franklin. He got the shock of his life when he discovered electricity. After all those winter power outages we’ve had, we all know where we’d be without his discovery… on the phone calling the wax company to say, “Hey, when are you going to get the candles back on?”

Remember Alexander Graham Bell? I don’t know about you, but I can’t even imagine my life without a phone. To me, the telephone is the greatest invention second only to the washing machine.

How about a school vacation day for Elvis Presley, the King of rock n’roll. On second thought, I’m not sure we can make his birthday a national holiday until he’s officially dead. Considering I think I saw him just last week at the 7-11 buying a Big-Gulp, I don’t think we can call that one a done deal.

Personally, I’d like to know who invented Chicken Nuggets. I think that person should have a national holiday in their honor. Basically, it’s the only food my kids will eat… so I owe that person a huge thank you. Of course, my kids eat French Fries, too, but I must assume France gets credit for that creation.

And why should we stop at real people? What about Aunt Jemima, Uncle Ben and Mrs. Butterworth? They have all contributed significantly to my family’s standard of living.

But seriously, it seems silly for my kids to take a week off from school in observance of the birthdays of a few, when they could be in school learning about the contributions of so many. I say, celebrate and educate simultaneously. I think my kids would gain a much greater appreciation of our American history by discussing it in school rather than watching “Family Guy” on TV at home while on break in observance of Washington’s Birthday. One day off, maybe two, out of respect of our founding fathers is fine. But a whole week? That’s just an excuse for a Disneyworld vacation.

My plan this presidents’ week is take a few moments with the kids to talk about why these people from our past are so important to our present. It might not be as interesting to them as who gets voted off “American Idol,” but perhaps they may come away from the week with a better appreciation of what it means to be American and be free.

Would they prefer to sleep in, eat sugar-coated cereal, and play video games until their eyeballs start to melt? Maybe. Would I prefer to have them in school for the week so I could go to the gym? I suppose. But perhaps the compromise is I give up some of my Spin classes and they give up being couch potatoes for a few hours so we can all understand how we got to where we are in the first place.

Then, maybe, when they grow up, they can really appreciate their freedom to run for president, or invent things, or write a column and complain about the school vacation schedule.

©2011, Beckerman. All rights reserved.
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A Shampoo By Any Other Name

The Latest Blog from Imajewishmotherwhatsyourexcuse.com

“What’s in the bag?” I asked my mother as she got into the car following her trip to my hair salon. Whenever my mom comes to visit me from Florida, our first stop is always the hair salon. It must be Jew thing because whenever the snowbirds fly up North, the first thing they do is get their hair colored. She claims that the Florida sun bleaches out her hair, but I think she just wants to make sure if she runs into any other alter cockers up here that she knows, they will think she looks faboosh…

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