Mr. Embee had the award for “worst parent of the month” all wrapped up on the first day of November. You think I’m exaggerating things because he has that pesky Y chromosome and I’m harder on those people, but NO. He agrees. Worst Parent, November 2010, goes to Mr. Embee.
Sally and the Mr. talk about all sorts of things on their morning drive to school–how the air conditioner works, how many stripes there are on the American flag, why we burp, etc. This Monday, the day before elections, there were lots of people on street corners holding signs that said things like “Vote Joe Schmo for city councilman” and “No on Prop. 593.” Sally is highly entertained by people who enthusiastically wave signs on the street. So they got to talking, and the Mr., who is actually a mutant being born with a super-enlarged sarcasm gland, says: “We should roll down the windows and yell ‘Get a job.’ ”
Even when he heard the bzzzzzz of the backseat window rolling down, it didn’t occur to him that 4-year-olds don’t GET sarcasm.
Imagine, if you will: You are holding your sign for your beloved gubernatorial candidate. You are feeling pride that in your country you can stand up for what you believe, right there on the street. And this SUV’s window rolls down to reveal a bright-eyed, blonde preschooler with bows in her hair and a chubby-cheeked smile. And she screams, “GET A JOB!”
Mr. Embee nearly ran off the road.
Mortified, he had to explain that he was kidding and that was NOT a nice thing to say. Sally, considering this, replies, “Well, maybe they SHOULD get a job. There are plenty of jobs they could do.” So he has to explain that actually, no, right now there are not enough jobs for everyone, and anyway most of those people probably do have jobs but they’ve taken a day off to be involved in our election and that’s a nice thing, and either way we don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. All the while checking his rear view mirror to make sure nobody is chasing them.
He swears they were past any people and that nobody heard her. I hope that’s the case. At any rate, I’m just glad that for once I am not the worst parent. Congratulations, darling. You win.