And The Jetsons Were Our Neighbors…

It’s Thursday night, and we’re about to wrap up the blogging week over here at Jedi Mama, Inc., but… sadly… I don’t really have anything profound to type about, because my day consisted of STARBUCKS, WORK, PIANO LESSONS, SECOND STARBUCKS, LOAD OF LAUNDRY, LOADING THE DISHWASHER, and INSISTING THAT YES!  YOU REALLY DO NEED TO ACTUALLY PUT TOOTHPASTE ON YOUR TOOTHBRUSH WHEN YOU BRUSH YOUR TEETH AT NIGHT.

There are some sentences that have been spoken in our home that my former 1992 self would never dream that I would be saying out loud to a REAL LIVE HUMAN BEING twenty years later.

Of course, my 1992 self was a lot more concerned with achieving Great Big Permed Hair Glory than trying to dream up Weird Things We’ll Say To Our Future Children.  And also?  Well, in 1992 I probably imagined that by the time 2012 rolled around, we’d all have scanners of some kind mounted on our bathroom walls, and we’d just SMILE at said scanners, and ultraviolet light would pass over our teeth and completely detox them of all food particles and plaque debris, and then we could just jump into our hovercrafts and float off to big, bubbled pods on top of the lake, which would offer fine-dining restaurants.

Of course, back in 1992 I actually SLEPT at night, and I didn’t have any insomnia issues, until I had to take World and Regional Geography in the spring semester of my senior year.  We had an 800-page textbook and four exams worth 25 points each.  And I actually FLUNKED the first test, because OH MY GOSH! and WHERE IS THE ANXIETY MEDICATION?, but there were only 10 impossible questions, worth 2 points each, and a 5-point bonus question.  Two hundred pages of textbook material and forty-pages of handwritten notes did not prepare me for ten questions. And this was a REQUIRED FOR ME TO GRADUATE AT THE END OF THAT SEMESTER CLASS, and I may have actually called my own mama in April and sobbed, “I am quitting school!  I am not going to graduate!  I am coming home to spend the rest of my life ringing up Slurpee’s at the local convenience store on the night shift.”

Let’s just say that for Tests 2, 3 and 4, I had figured out the professor’s CRAZY and DERANGED method of selecting test questions, and by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin, I pulled a big fat C on my report card, and I lost weeks of sleep due to ALL THE STUDYING and ALL THE CRYING OVER FLUNKING THE FIRST EXAM.

It was — and still is — the ONLY C that I ever received in my entire life.  It hauled my perfect GPA down.  I graduated from the university with an endless string of A’s behind my name, and one chubby C.

And all of those A letters on all of those report cards still did not prepare me for what Kindergarten PE is really like, or the fact that eleven-year-old boys will sometimes brush their teeth with ONLY WATER, or Words With Friends, because I always thought I knew fancy words, until Pastor John challenged me.

Of course, my 1992 self would have laughed hysterically if someone had said, “In 2012, you’ll be playing a form of the board game Scrabble on your PHONE with your pastor, and he will continuously beat you by more than 100 points per game.”

Because A PHONE THAT PLAYS GAMES?  And a PHONE THAT IS MORE COMPUTER THAN THE LITTLE APPLE WITH THE GREEN-LIT SCREEN SITTING IN OUR APARTMENT?  And a PHONE THAT YOU CAN SEND A TYPED MESSAGE FROM?  And a PHONE THAT YOU CAN ACTUALLY USE TO PURCHASE A NEW SWEATER FROM THE GAP WITH?  Oh… that will never happen.

But we’ll totally scan our teeth with ultraviolet light instead of using toothpaste.

I’m sure that such news will make the boy incredibly happy, because apparently — in his own words! — LOADING THE TOOTHBRUSH WITH TOOTHPASTE TAKES TOO LONG.

Somewhere, a dentist just fell to the floor in grief.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *