Ms. Jones Gets an Earfull-Chp. 3

If you are faint of heart when it comes to bad language, perhaps you should sit this one out. I used to mvmake apologies for Redshirt's indescretions, but I have learned it is a wasted gesture. So there will be no apologies made here. If you choose to continue reading, the liability is yours to own.

Redshirt just completed the second grade this year. It was a year filled with wonderment and joy, if you are the devil. But for me, his ever loving and frazzled mother, it was a humbling journey wrought with embarrassment and laughter; dissapointment and confusion.

Ms. Jones, whose name has been changed to protect the innocent, declared to me that in her 23 years of teaching, she had never encountered a child like Redshirt. I was, no doubt flattered. You see, even when the connotation of a statement like that is negative, if you are Redshirt's parent, you'll take what you can get and you'll be thankful.

I digress. Ms. Jones explained that she pulled out all her tools, special training, and experience to conquer the will of Redshirt. However, just as soon as she made progress, some breakthrough-- Redshirt thwarted her methods. I knew this battle all too well. Many months and years had I spent battling Redshirt in an attempt to control him; to mold him into a functioning member of society. He never waved the white flag; the tenacious menace that he is. Outsmarting him was-and is-exactly like a game of chess. Every move must be thought out five steps in advance, every possible scenario must be anticipated; even then Redshirt can pivot and evade your tactics. So to the comments of Ms. Jones, I replied, "He's like a virus. Everytime you defeat him, he evolves into a more resilient strain leaving you weak, clueless, and crushed."

Redshirt can identify nearly every brand of soap sold in stores by its taste. In fact, I think he has grown to enjoy the flavor and sensation of sudsy barsoap in his mouth. He even has brand preferences, claiming, "Some are sweeter than others." As a result, he cares not whether he'll eat it as a consequence of cursing obscenities. He enjoys the shocked gasps of the witnessing crowd when curse words are uttered from his eight year old lips; therefore he uses them as frequently and eloquently as he is able-- for he fears no soap, no spanking, no restriction, nor loss of privelges, toys, etc. You have to understand, for Redshirt, the gains from his poor choices far outweigh any consequence you can dream up...ah yes, a virus.

I was told once, while picking him up from school that he farted; that is to say, he passed gas. The other second graders heard the signature squirt of flatulence and giggled, as would I. They teased him and sniggered, "Ewww," and "Gross!" Redshirt isn't the type to chuckle along. He will retaliate like a skunk (yes, pun intended) and make all accounts square. The squabble attracted the attention of Ms. Jones. She strutted over to the raucous to mediate. Redshirt continued to belligerently defend himself, to accuse the guilty, to assert his rightful behavior. He finished his argument with, "It didn't even fuckin' stink!"

...... ...???

What does a mother do when her son's teacher tells her such a story? I can't answer that; I can only relay that I held back a chuckle so fiercely I nearly choked on it. A smile played at the corners of my mouth. I didn't feign horror, because I was horrified. But the horror only made the comedy sweeter. I apologized, as I often did, and promised to have a talk with the culprit.

"I'll pray for you," Ms. Jones replied. What could I say but, "Thanks?"

Let's Get Dirty Shall We? -- Ch. 2

Redshirt, ironically has to wear a white shirt underneath everything he wears. It began as a toddler when he showed great discomfort and proceeded to spazz out whenever the tags in his clothing rubbed against him. http://bipolar.about.com/cs/kids_diag/a/red_flags4.htm

Oftentimes Redshirt prances and pings around the house with his white shirt only. Only his white shirts are all stained shirts.

Redshirt appears to possess an uncanny ability to streak the food he's eaten and subsequently caked onto the corners of his mouth, from the edge of his shoulder downward and across to the inner edge of his shirt collar. The result is an iconic upside down dirty rainbow--the Redshirt Whiteshirt Logo.

The sweep happens fast! The untrained technician will miss the move if she dares bat a lash. Be ready with the napkin and prepare for the attack!

Arrrghhh. Defeat.

The once faded stain is now reinforced and Redshirt in blissful oblivion continues to dine. It is has been surmised that the swift motion is exacted with such agility due to the Redshirt Dining Stance; whereby he pounces left to right, toe to toe, never sitting. This mobility allows him to react quickly and strike without notice. He is especially talented with ketchup, gravy, and chocolate ice cream.

His food streaks are so exact, so precise, that one would think the shirts were purchased this way...
http://www.hanes.com/

Hanes Gravy Stained Shirts- 3pack- $8
Hanes Ketchup Stained Shirts- 3pack- $8
Hanes Chocolate Stained Shirts- 3pack-$10 (higher cost due to special dye meant to withstand fading)

Vintage clothing shoppers, if you come across a T-shirt in your store with the infamous Redshirt Whiteshirt Logo, please pay homage to the fallen mother and the victorious son.

A Gentle Introduction to Redshirt- Ch. 1

My son is eight. He's an only child. He's unusual, and he's a genius with a mental illness.

For the purposes of my blog, I shall call him Redshirt, the meaning of which I will reveal at some point in a future blog, unless of course you fully grasp the concept already, then you can enjoy a chuckle now.

Last year his teacher told me I should write a book chronicling his adventures; or from my perspective they are mishaps, missteps, riddles and quirks.

Where should I begin? I'd like to ease you in, as you are a new reader and stranger to the Lowe Family Circus. Therefore, I'll start with Redshirt's stuffed animal collection; that is, I'll name them all, each and every one. I'll attempt to list them in chronological order. He has chosen these names without input from another, except the one marked with an asterisk.

Puppy Dog, the puppy dog
Chompy, the beagle dog
Scrumptious, the whiney dog
Scruff, the electric dog
Lovey, the kitty
Squeakers, the whale
Big Joe, the alligator
Leo, the lizard
Tough, the turtle
Rexy, the T Rex
Carmel, the camel
Jaws, the shark


...I know you are thinking What's the big deal? ...wait...
Henry, the mini pup
Ekins, the snake
*Blue Steel, the shark
Sly Cooper, the red fox

(You see, he's getting a little better as he goes along.)

Then he started naming all the strays I've taken in, and subsequently found homes for. This is when the eyebrow inches upward in question, "Where does he get this stuff?"

Bruno
Licor
Sela
Glowy
Vaccine (as in vaccine)
Alaska (as in Alaska)
Richew

That is all I can recall at the moment. I'll be sure to add more as I remember them. I believe that is a good start and so 'till next time--and do come again as the stories unfold; but be forewarned, the content will get a little indelicate at times.