It’s been drizzling on and off all day, but otherwise it’s been a fairly unremarkable day. There was a meetup for parents and kids of the boy’s incoming kindergarten class at the playground at school this morning. It was nice for the boy to see some of the kids who might be in his class, and it was good for busy daddy and me to meet some of the parents. It’s funny how it’s so obvious who the bully kids are—and who some of the bully parents are, too. The boy met some really nice kids, and we hope they are in the same classroom as him.
I don’t know why it always surprises me, but I was sort of disappointed by the lack of diversity (despite the fact that our town prides itself on its diversity, go figure). All of the kids appear to be white (at least those I saw) and most of the parents we met appear to run in the same New York media circles that busy daddy and I (reluctantly) are a part of. I guess yuppies tend to converge in the same communities.
As we were leaving, I asked busy daddy, Where my Chinkies at? He shushed me because some people might think that I’m being racist, even though I was just keepin’ it real, yo.
Afterward, we went to the gym for a quik-e workout because—like I’ve said in the past—we’re kind of gay and kind of fat, but in the nicest possible way. Plus, we probably won’t be able to make it to the gym tomorrow, and I’m planning to bake a (gluten-free) cake tonight and eating said cake, mostly by myself.
Am I not taking this storm seriously enough?