"Nose boogers are yellow. Eye boogers are white."- The Bren
2. God - So, while in San Diego, in fact, on the first day, the Bren asked the question. You know the question. She whispered, "Is god real?"
Whew buddy. It's me, her Catholic raised mother (who has practicing Catholic parents), and good friend and San Diego host Marnie. What to do? What to do? Ah! I immediately bit my cheeks and shut the hell up. Her mother paused as well.
But, the one thing I've always admired about Marnie is the fact that she has huge ovaries (guys have "balls"). Marnie immediately chimed in: "Yes. I believe god is real. I once wrote a paper in college about god being real and it was called one of the best college papers ever written."
Boom! Just like that. So, it's fight or flight time (ha!). I can either defend my belief or shoot down a highly reputable source: Marnie.
I tried the, "Well honey, different people believe different things and that's okay" approach. But, Marnie, bless her heart (ha!) was persistent. Gotta hand it to her, she didn't back down from her belief. I had to resort to the, "Well honey, there is absolutely no data, evidence, or scientific fact supporting the existence of any extra-spiritual being like a so-called "god.""
So, there you have it. I'm not going to independently bring up the topic with the child. I still think that if she someday wants to believe, so be it. But, if she asks, I'm going to give her my perspective. I will not poo-poo any one else's perspective (Marnie), but I will let her choose. That was actually a difficult one.
But, if push came to shove, sure god is real. As real (the perception) as the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, Big Foot, Santa Claus, and democracy. God is a business.
3. Goofy - So, the kids were watching some Disney (tm) TeeVee (hi-def, plasma, by the way) and were doing what kids do. They were choosing which character they would be. You know, "I'm Mickey!" Kind of setting the social hierarchy.
Well, the oldest kid immediately selected Mickey. The 6 year-old girl was, "I'm Mickey." The 3 year-old boy (the 6 year-old's brother - experience with this) proclaimed, "I'm Mickey" as well. Figures.
Well, I was kind of curious what the Bren would choose. Given no experience with this game (for what I know) and little exposure to Disney (tm) characters (for what I know), I was kind of sure she would go with "I'm Mickey" also (for what I know). I was certain she wouldn't go with Minny. She hates that shit. The scene opened with Mickey, Minny, Donald, Pluto, and Goofy.
Well the girl chose "I'm Goofy."
At first, I was horrified. I mean, Goofy? WTF? But, once I give it some thought, why not Goofy. Think about it. Who has the most fun? Not Mickey, right? Mickey has to be the brand ambassador for Disney (tm). He's Tiger Woods. He cannot swear, fart, or pick his nose. He has to be on game 24/7. He is the company. He doesn't drink, puke, or do it with anyone (even Minny). Mickey Mouse (tm) doesn't shit.
Donald? Don't fool yourself. Donald Duck (Bonald Buck) isn't nearly as carefree as he comes across. He's sticking to his talking points too. He has to sell the schtick. And, it's stupid schtick. He's trying to wait out Mickey's tenure, but Mickey's not going anywhere. So, Donal will forever be second fiddle (George H.W. Bush to Ronald Reagan). At least Disney (tm) had the courtesy to (if not promote Donald) give him Daisy. But with Daisy came those stupid spin-off brats.
Pluto? Insignificant. A retarded dog.
But, Goofy? Rock on! Goofy can do no wrong: He's fucking goofy for Christ's sake! Fart? Yep. Puke? Yep. Get into fights? Damn right. Goofy is basically Johnny Knoxville, Mickey's junkie cousin.