Mom vs. the Bird Brains

You have to admit, people are dumb. Or maybe just ignorant. So today, as I forge out into the world filled with people, I find myself forced to remember that it isn't their fault. It isn't their fault they don't know that you don't put an apostrophe in a plural. It isn't their fault that they don't know which "their, there, they're" to use. They are victims of poor teaching, or not caring enough about the language to not look like morons. (Or is it moron's?)

I've always loved language, and I am just nit-picky enough to learn all its rules and exceptions (I before E except after C and in "ay" sounds like neighbor). To not abide by these simple, simple rules just advertises one's stupidity/ignorance. I cringe when I read the uneducated sentences, often without correct punctuation, sometimes even without subject AND verb. It makes me shudder to think these people are out in the world, representing America and our "superior" education system. What makes me want to tear my hair out and writhe in agony, though, is when folks who ARE educated make these mistakes. They blatantly post signage with misplaced apostrophes, which I am certain has gone past more than one set of eyes. These are corporate bigwigs and managers, who get paid significant amounts of money to what? Look like boobs?

I will leave my red pen at home, as I often must when I go to work. No one likes to see their mistakes, after all, the ones they put out on their advertisements. But inside, my heart is breaking, one misplaced semicolon at a time.

Deer Camp-iness

Brian has been gone since November 5. Minnesota women know what deer season does to families, and we have learned to live with it. Men disappear into the woods with their fellow men; to kill, play cards, eat meat, burp, fart, shit in the leaves, and beat their chests. A few brief stop-ins for dinner and a quick shower have reminded me that I love my husband very much, but he drives me crazy! He makes messes and does what he can to get the children wound up and out of their routines I work so hard to establish.

Brian has been gone since November 5, with only a few brief stops at home. He watches the kids when I have to go to work and daycare is closed. He leaves me money in an envelope with a short love note on the front of it, with specific instructions of what to do with the contents. It is very much the life of a single parent, but it is like he is dead, not just gone. His family stops by at inconvenient times, I think just to make sure the kids aren't tied up or starving. They try to make it look like they are trying to help, but it is awkward and tense.

Brian has been gone since November 5. He hasn't seen many deer, and he hasn't shot any. He hasn't fired his rifle once. He is getting antsy and impatient, and as deer season winds down, his impatience escalates. He becomes short-tempered (unusual for him) and moody. I have nicknamed this condition "Deer Camp PMS."

Brian has been gone since November 5. He has not shot a deer, and his mood shows it. I hope, for the sake of my sanity, my marriage, and my children's love for their father that he shoots one before this week is over. Because there is a reason PMS doesn't last all month, and certainly not all year. Men would murder us if we acted like that all the time. I don't know if I can take a full year of him having not killed anything. (Garbage-picking raccoons DON'T COUNT!!!!)