Did anyone ever used to buy candy bubbles? You'd blow them and then eat them.
Came in cherry and grape flavors. Cherry was best. Much better than soap flavor.
I just remembered those. Only when you didnt manage to snatch em up in your mouth, and the popped on you- they got you real nice and sticky. And sometimes people would just drink the liquid. That can not have been safe.
Anyway, on to the times of yesteryear...I was thinking about this particular memory today when eating lunch with an open-mouthed chewer who shall remain nameless.
When I was little, I was eating lunch- tomato and peanut butter on toast specifically (what? its good) - at the table with the babysitter and my sister. My babysitter proceeded to get all up in my face and tell me that I was not allowed to eat at the table with them if I could not learn to close my mouth when I chewed.
I was promptly exiled to eat my lunch in the family room, alone and mortified. Although I was young, and it was only my sister and babysitter who knew of this thing I did, I was unspeakably horrified by my actions. Every time thereafter that I made the vicious mistake of talking while chewing, or opening my mouth at all during the meal time I was banished to the couch of shame.
It took me a very short time to rectify this behavior and learn to eat like a lady.
To this day, I am very conscious and offended by open mouth chewers (you know who you are).
Moral of the story: Public ridicule effectively halts undesirable behaviors in children. So if you have kids, and they are picking their nose or something- just broadcast it at a sporting event or something. Maximum embarassment = maximum results. This could be a new psychology line of study, right Caro? Much akin to behaviorism or Jungian pyschology - here comes a new school of thought! Petersian Psychology - conditioning through public humiliation. Textbook writers, get a pen! Who wants to be a study participant?
I will further demonstrate how public humilation can affect youth and development through a case study I only refer to as THE INCIDENT. I will give you this sneak preview, as I have to collect myself and my thoughts before I can fully committ this to words. Let me just say this - this INCIDENT, as it was, I have only very recently been able to discuss without weeping or running for the hills. I considered transferring schools after it occurred, and I still can not talk about it without hearing the haunting laughter of cruel preteens and feeling the burn of my salty tears.
Since the bubbles will help disguise my tears and redness, I shall attempt, in the near future, to tell the story of...the snart. (insert the theme song of Are You Afraid of the Dark).
Buckle up.
Miriam put your bathing suit back on. I mean seriously.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Is That a Pizzebab in Your Pants?
Nope: It's a pad.
1996 was the summer of the pool. I was there all of the time: getting tweeted at by the lifeguards for running, frequenting the snack bar, sneaking in the occasional game of Sharks and Minnows, living the dream. I had a Speedo tan line, and I smelled like chlorine. I was a pool rat with braces.
It was supposed to be a great summer. Then came the period. It offended me, and I didn't want to talk about it with anyone, especially not my mother. But she found out eventually and led me to the closet to get what we deemed "supplies." She handed me boxes and boxes of tampons as if I were a squirrel storing them up for the winter, telling me that if I needed anymore "supplies" that I could just come and get them.
I was down with the tampon. It was OK by me. But I didn't think it would be wise to wear one in the pool. I reached this conclusion after reading one of those Most Embarrassing Moments stories in YM. In this particular story, a girl had gone to the pool with her "crush" and jumped in, causing her tampon to disappear into her internal abyss. She then had to get it extracted by a doctor. The story got 4 stars for "mega mortifying."
I opted for a much more intelligent decision at the pool: One Kotex pad for me, thanks. It was almost 2-inches thick, and it prevented me from walking in a straight line. It was kind of like a diaper. Needless to say, it don't not sit well in my Speedo. I looked like I had a bad case of penis envy and had decided to retaliate by stuffing my suit.
The junk in my trunk was beyond obvious when I removed my Umbros. I knew this and jumped into the water as quickly as possible. I stayed in for about 30 minutes, and when I jumped out, I had practically forgotten about the pad - until of course I started walking back to my towel and the water retained by Ms. Kotex began pouring out. It looked like I was peeing, and I could've sworn that the hot babes (read: the 14-year-old boys) in the pool had noticed. I managed to walk calmly back to my towel, grab it, wrap it round my waist, snag my mini-backpack and sprint for the bathroom. Once safely inside a stall, the pad was out, and the tampon was in. I reasoned that even if the tampon torpedoed through me during a cannon ball, it could never be worse than being a well-hung, 12-year-old girl.
1996 was the summer of the pool. I was there all of the time: getting tweeted at by the lifeguards for running, frequenting the snack bar, sneaking in the occasional game of Sharks and Minnows, living the dream. I had a Speedo tan line, and I smelled like chlorine. I was a pool rat with braces.
It was supposed to be a great summer. Then came the period. It offended me, and I didn't want to talk about it with anyone, especially not my mother. But she found out eventually and led me to the closet to get what we deemed "supplies." She handed me boxes and boxes of tampons as if I were a squirrel storing them up for the winter, telling me that if I needed anymore "supplies" that I could just come and get them.
I was down with the tampon. It was OK by me. But I didn't think it would be wise to wear one in the pool. I reached this conclusion after reading one of those Most Embarrassing Moments stories in YM. In this particular story, a girl had gone to the pool with her "crush" and jumped in, causing her tampon to disappear into her internal abyss. She then had to get it extracted by a doctor. The story got 4 stars for "mega mortifying."
I opted for a much more intelligent decision at the pool: One Kotex pad for me, thanks. It was almost 2-inches thick, and it prevented me from walking in a straight line. It was kind of like a diaper. Needless to say, it don't not sit well in my Speedo. I looked like I had a bad case of penis envy and had decided to retaliate by stuffing my suit.
The junk in my trunk was beyond obvious when I removed my Umbros. I knew this and jumped into the water as quickly as possible. I stayed in for about 30 minutes, and when I jumped out, I had practically forgotten about the pad - until of course I started walking back to my towel and the water retained by Ms. Kotex began pouring out. It looked like I was peeing, and I could've sworn that the hot babes (read: the 14-year-old boys) in the pool had noticed. I managed to walk calmly back to my towel, grab it, wrap it round my waist, snag my mini-backpack and sprint for the bathroom. Once safely inside a stall, the pad was out, and the tampon was in. I reasoned that even if the tampon torpedoed through me during a cannon ball, it could never be worse than being a well-hung, 12-year-old girl.
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