News

We’re minutes away from going to see Trinity in her school show: "You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown."  I haven’t seen a production of the show since elementary school; mine.  Grandma and Grandpa are coming here, then all of us will drive in together to watch our girl.  Jon’s upstairs changing into something more fatherly.  I learned year ago to leave the Goth stuff at home for school events.  I learned that one memorable day in pre-school when it was grandparents’s day, but I’d forgotten that.  I was walking my wee darling down the hallway.  She was all bouncing hair and cute dress, but we were getting looks.  They’d smile at her, eye flick to me, then a frown, or quick look away.  I couldn’t figure out what was going on, until I looked down.  I’d forgotten what shirt I’d put on that morning.  It was a black t-shirt, I had a ton of ’em, that read, "Don’t piss me off, I’m running out of places to hide the bodies."  Yes, it shouldn’t matter what you wear.  People should see past it, but they don’t.  It is not my job to make my kid’s life harder.  It is my job, if possible, to make it easier.  So, the scary stuff stays home and we try to blend in a little better than normal.  We’re already swimming up stream with Jon’s long locks, and my very un-suburban-mom attitude.  We both spent years trying to fit in with the crowd, and failing.  Now we’ve embraced who and what we are, and we enjoy it, but when it comes time to do the parent thing, we try very hard to make events about Trinity and not about us.  We get enough attention on a day to day basis, tonight is about the kiddo.