My child is a genius.

Ever notice that most mothers think their kids are brilliant? Their children can do no wrong.

And while I recognize my kids’ weaknesses, I admit I think they’re pretty terrific.

But yesterday.

We were heading to dim sum. There was a Rubiks Cube in the car. Max, the 7-year-old, started messing with it. He was so excited when he got one whole side red. Several minutes later, he had the blue side. Wow, I can’t do that.

Then, about 4 minutes later, he held up the cube – with the puzzle totally completed. I beamed with pride. My first thought was to pick up the cell phone and call my mother. She’d say, “I knew Max was a genius.” I’d call my mother-in-law. She’d be thrilled and proud. Already, I was thinking about how we could better challenge Max. He had this amazing ability – just wait for the SATs. MIT, here we come.

But, before I did anything, I (kiddingly) asked, “You didn’t just switch the stickers around, did you?”

And he burst out laughing. Reed laughed even louder.

And he told me the truth. He did actually solve 2 sides. But then, Reed suggested that there was another way to make the sides solid. And Max, ever the independent thinker, did it.

So while I won’t be sending in applications for early college admissions, I secretly admire the creative problem solving. He found a way to accomplish the goal that was extremely efficient. (We never did say ‘turn the pieces to make each side a solid color’ – we said ‘each side needs to be a solid color’….) It goes without saying that cheating is not okay! And this begs the age old question, does the end justify the means?

Needless to say, this has spurred some interesting family discussions.

Afternote: As embarrasing as it is for me to admit that this how my hub thinks, he feels strongly that this be a part of the post. And, since this happened on Father’s Day, I’m trying to be accomodating. He likened this whole episode to The Kobayashi Maru - explaining that Captain Kirk surreptitiously reprogramed the simulator so that the Kobayashi Maru test is possible to win. He argued that putting cadets in a no-win situation was cheating, and so he had to cheat (by reprogramming the computer, evidently) in return. He receives a commendation for original thinking.

I’m really trying to understand the parallel here. I guess I’m just not Star Trek material.

Cards.

I used to buy greeting cards. A lot of them. I sent them for every birthday, every anniversary, every event. I loved to send cards. But the costs have increased significantly over the years and the availability of online options has exploded. Plus, I have great software and can make my own.

For Fathers Day this year, we made cards for both grandfathers to go with their gifts. We bought Pop Pop the Sarah Silverman CD (I suspect he’ll be a bit shocked) and we got Grandpa a hat that says Still Plays With Trains (he’s in a model train group and works at a way-cool train museum).

We didn’t buy any cards for Andrew. At $2.75 a pop, I’d have spent $13.75 on cards alone! (3 kids, me, the cats..) I’d rather spend that on the real gifts. So Andrew, here’s your Father’s Day Card:

The boys and I each answered these questions. For additional entertainment quality, we have chosen not to identify the answers!

What is your favorite thing you did with Dad this year?
-went to the BMX park
-went hiking at Sugarloaf
-went to Hersheypark
-spent lovely weekend in Pennsylvania

What is his best quality?
-stays cool in tough situations
-intelligent
-romantic
-he’s not too mean

The best meal he makes?
-everything he makes
-grilled shrimp
-birthday breakfast
-pulled pork

Funniest thing about him
-?
-he used to have big hair (in high school)
-he always makes me laugh
-when he I.M.s

What do you want to do with him sometime in the next 2 years?
-go to Kings Dominion
-go to Mexico again. (that was really nice!)
-go to a BMX park
-censored

If you could buy him anything (money being no object) what would it be?
-big pack of books by Michael Connelley
-million dollar American Express gift card
-XM radio
-three wishes

Happy Father’s Day!

Mean.

Yesterday I wrote about a mean thing I did when I was in 5th grade. It got me thinking about mean things that were done to me as a kid. I can remember two that are particularly noteworthy.

First of all, in 4th grade, my 3 best friends (Sarah, Sherri and Karen) and I were asked by the art teacher to draw these mushrooms and make faces on them to decorate the school. Looking back, I have to wonder what the significance of the mushrooms was. It WAS the sixties. Hmmm. Maybe the art teacher was a recreational mushroom user…?

Anyway, we worked on the drawings at recess and after school. The 3 of them decided not to include me one day and went without me. The next day (when I found out), I asked them why. Karen (the meanest of the bunch & probably currently married, or not, to a toothless guy named Earl) said that I was no longer in the group. Why? Because I wear Pampers. Yes, that’s what she said. In front of a group of kids. Well, it spread like wildfire. (Pampers were a pretty new thing, btw.) That pretty much sucked.

Next. One day, Merrill, a guy in my class who I always thought was very nice (and cute) suggested I ask Stuart (another boy in the class) about his sister’s ballet lessons. Merrill said that Stuart was feeling really down about something and that talking about his sister always made him feel better.

So later that day, I asked Stuart how his sister’s ballet lessons were going. He started to cry. Not a little. “What?” I asked. Between sobs, he asked my how I could be so horrible. Didn’t I know his sister didn’t have any legs?

Well, of course, I started to cry. Those who know me know that’s not unusual. I am emotional. But this was warranted! I was a mess the rest of the day and went home to tell my mother.

Then I found out that Stuart doesn’t have a sister. (Can you say sucker?)

credit to Etchings Dance for the art!

Nice.

I am a nice person.

I (almost) always assume that people have good intentions. I (almost) always go out of my way to be helpful, polite and respectful of others. I find that it works for me. I feel happier. In fact, I think I’m happier than a lot of other people. I believe that people who are mean and spiteful and angry are just wasting time. We have choices. And I choose to use my power for good and not evil.

But I wasn’t always this way. In fifth grade, I did a terrible thing. I still feel just awful. I didn’t start it. But I went along. And I hurt someone badly. Stacy W. was a shy and somewhat awkward girl. Not a bad person. Actually, I liked her. The teacher spent extra time with her and gave her a tremendous amount of extra attention. I’d imagine she probably needed it.

One of my good friends started a petition. (She is still a friend, I might add. She married a cousin of mine. AND she’s an elementary school teacher. You’ll see the irony of that in a second.) So, she went around asking people to sign the petition so that Stacy would no longer be the teacher’s pet. (Even just writing this makes me feel like crap!) By the time it got to me, there were 20 or so signatures. And I signed it. Yikes. I still can’t believe I signed it.

The rest is easy to imagine. The teacher, Miss Bernstein, was horrified. Sat us all down and talked at us for quite some time. How would we feel? How can we be so unkind? What were we thinking? And more.

I was so ashamed.

This is not to say that I was nice from that moment on. But it sure did stick with me. And before I pass judgment or take action that might be construed as not nice, I stop and think.

Sometimes it appears that people think that when someone takes the “nice” road when other choices seem to be screaming out, that that person is oblivious. Or that she don’t know that the situation or person is not acting with the same level of decorum. But that is not the case. I know when someone is nasty. Or brushing me off. Or basically treating me like shit. But I don’t want to be that person. I am happier being nice.

And I’m sorry, Stacy. I hope we didn’t scar you for life.

Susan?

It’s the last week of school. Besides my work, I’ve been crazy busy trying to get ready for the new order of things around here. So, I promise to post a real post soon!

But meantime –

There was a comment by SUSAN regarding a boy I knew in high school. Susan who? Please tell me. I’m baffled.

Two lines.

There are 2 lines that we say a lot here at the Scherer house.

1) What would you do if I was dead?
2) You are not the target audience.

I would like to talk about each on its own merit.

First – What would you do if I was dead? Okay, it’s morbid. I know. But it helps with decision making here. Sometimes, Andrew asks my opinion on something. If I want to know what he really thinks is the right choice, that is the question. And vice versa. It makes us think about the ultimate decisions. What would we decide if we, alone, had to decide. Could we word it in a less obnoxious way? Of course we could. But we’re weird that way. And it works for us.

Second. You are not the target audience. Okay, I come from advertising and marketing. So I am constantly looking at things that way. If I don’t get it, perhaps it wasn’t aimed at me. It happens. Not everything is about me. And I’ve taught Andrew to understand this, as well. So now, he knows it’s not all about him either.

Which brings me to tonight. Our dear friends, Scott & Melissa came for dinner. With their kids (who are great friends with our kids – they do tend to bring out the wildest of each other, but hey, we get to drink 29 year old port together, so who gives a fuck?).

At any rate, tonight, we talked to S & M (funny initials, yes?) about what Melissa was wearing. Among other things. But she had a nice top with embroidery on it. And she told me she got it at Chico’s. OMG. Melissa. STOP. You are too darn young to shop at Chico’s. The target audience is 50+ and you aren’t 40. So stop. NOW. Shop at J. Jill. Shop at Abercrombie, for God’s sake. (at least look at that hot website!) But stay the heck away from Chico’s. It’s not natural. Scott just laughed. Sorry, M. But it’s true. You’re young and beautiful. Don’t do it.

Okay, so we totally gave her a hard time. But seriously, Chico’s has done an amazing job of targeting mid-aged women with nice, but loose fitting clothing that coordinates and looks youthful. I’m impressed. They’ve done well. But those of us who can still fit in seven jeans should wear them, don’t you think? Okay, maybe we shouldn’t show our pupicks (how do you spell that word?) but still….

S & M – we love spending time with you. Even if we do find funny tidbits from our time together. And Scott, I would LOVE to whip your butt in racquetball. Name the time.

Traveling south.

If you embarrass easily, now is the time to go to another blog. Perhaps check out Sucky Blog, one of my new favs (he’s a very funny guy) or try Annie’s Smart at Love for some super insight into relationships. But if you don’t mind a little personal talk… read on.

Waxing has become regular, every day conversation. Even on David Spade’s new show, The Showbiz Show (if you haven’t seen it, you must!), he said he heard women in the Starbucks line talking about whether they get a heart or a lightning bolt or a simple landing strip… When I first started waxing, I didn’t know a soul who did. But then, one by one, I found others. We shared this little secret. But little by little, it became seriously mainstream. Kind of like poker. When I started playing poker with the girls, it was unheard of. Now, you can buy poker sets for chicks on QVC. Get the point?

Anyway, so this waxing thing – it’s getting out of hand. Between the Brazilians ($60-90) and the underarms ($20) and the eyebrows ($15) and legs (which I’ve never done) this is quite the racket. And it’s not as if you can just let it go. I mean, we all know those women at the pool, right? No one wants to see unsightly hair. Why is that? How did we get here?

Anyway, back to David Spade. (I still don’t understand the Heather Locklear thing. She dated him? He’s cute and all, but for someone like Heather to date?) So David (sure, we’re on a first name basis) says he’s had enough. He’s wondering when carpet is coming back in style. I thought I was going to fall off the chaise. (Yes, Judi, I was on THE chaise!)

So, any takers? I’m dying to know what the blogger POV is….

Hello world!

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Sold to the highest bidder.

The other night, there was a huge women’s event in our community. A charity thing. There were 350 people there – including the women who were being honored for their dedication and service.

I’m not one to bid at silent or not-so-silent auctions. I get carried away. I know this about myself, so I just abstain. But my “date” was bidding on a 4 strand necklace of large fresh water pearls (to die for!) and I saw this hobo bag. It was just like what I’ve been looking for, but would never buy. Too pricey. Not necessary. All that. But in the name of charity (and a glass of wine under my belt), I wrote a modest bid. Then came dinner. When my friend went back to check her status on the necklace, she offered to check the bag and upped it for me. I now realize it’s very easy to bid more when you aren’t actually looking at the sheet.

Well, I won. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any money with me. Not true, really. I had $4.20. That was not going to cover it. Trust me.

But since I know the Director of the organization running the shin-dig, I took home the bag and sent a check. It’s a great bag! And a great deal, if you believe that attached price tag.

The night was like many events. The food was good. The speakers were spirited. The company was nice.

But. The highlight….

Earlier in the evening, that same Director of the nonprofit that put this whole thing together pulled me aside and asked me…

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like Jennifer Aniston?”

Easy answer. No. Never.

“Well,” he said, “I watched three of her movies today (my note here – can you even frickin imagine watching three J.Aniston movies in a lifetime, let alone in a day??) and I’m here to tell you that you look just like her.”

I was flabbergasted. Flabbergasted, I say.

And then, the woman next to him (whom I’ve never met) said, “He’s right. You’re the spitting image.”

As I said, I’m flabbergasted.

Rainbow that set the sky on fire.

Read about this photo in the Daily Mail. Way cool!