Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Dorkiness comes Full Circle

 I’m not sure if science has proven this or not, but I’m sure there has to be a dork gene. I inherited mine from my mother, who used to drive me batty by saying things like “drive me batty”  and “Who does she go with?” (it’s go OUT with, Mom, duh!), and “We think so!” when people complimented our house. We didn’t just have family meetings to resolve issues. That would’ve been bad enough. No, we had a “family council.” She collected decorating ideas and filed them in folders by room! Even her family-photo smiles annoyed me, what with all the miniature laugh/sighs.

And then I grew up and caught myself smile/laugh/sighing for a photo, making decorating idea binders, and realized that I had turned into her! Only I really already was her. In middle school, I once spent an entire evening calling a long list of 800 numbers I had scrubbed from magazine ads, asking “Do you have a catalog featuring your products?” Yes, those very words. I cringe remembering it. My sister describes a home video of a ten-year-old me helping my mom host a baby shower. I’m holding my hands like an opera singer, according to my sister (I refuse to watch it, but I can SO picture it!), wearing my favorite button shirt (A zillion mismatched buttons lovingly sewn onto a knit T-shirt by my Grammy, another proud bearer of the dork gene, as evidenced by her quiet little laugh/sighs at annual family Christmas photos), asking the guest of honor in my prissiest voice, “Mary? Would you like something to drink?”

And today proved that even though I have sons, the dork gene is runnin’ strong up in here! I’ll describe my eldest’s newly-made “activity binder” in a minute, but first a game. Who said the following comments, 6-year-old Reed or his mama? Answers at bottom

1)      As parting words after a phone conversation, “Keep on crafting!”
2)      Describing yummy food, “This is heavenly!”
3)      Describing more yummy food, “I don’t like it… I LOVE it!”
4)      A response when my bachelor brother asked what we’d been up to this summer, “Just keeping up with the garden.”
5)      “I’ll be as quiet as quiet can be.”
6)      To Calvin, “You miscreant!” (Calvin’s sophisticated response? “You’re stupid!”)

So, the activity binder… It was sorta dorky Mom’s idea, but someone sure enjoyed cutting out ideas, 3-whole punching them, and filing them under the appropriate tabbed divider.  Which got me to describing the wonderful world of Pinterest, and boy did his little eyes light up! Later, after he showed Daddy his binder (I was only a LITTLE jealous that he got a much more attentive response than when I tried to show one of mine!) I mentioned Pinterest again and said we’d try it out sometime. He rubbed his hands together and said, “Oooh! PINTEREST!”

All I have to say is that it’s a good thing Reed is handsome, charming, and athletic. Otherwise, he may be in for some trouble with the ladies. I don’t know many high school girls who are attracted to guys with a good smile/laugh/sigh.

Answers: Me – 1, 4; Reed – 2, 3, 5, 6


Deborah Raney said...

Once again, ROFLOL––at my own expense even! But I'm delighted I could pass on the dork gene even to the second generation. Long may it live.

Tavia Raney (soon to be Smith) said...

This is seriously my favorite blog. Not only are you a great writer but your children are hi-freaking-larious! Can't wait to have them all with me soon!

Tobi said...

Awwwww! Thanks, Tav. You make me glad I didn't mention your once-dormant dork gene in the post like I planned... Mom, I have a feeling it WILL live long. It's pretty dominant.

P.S. Cringing at your use of the word "delighted." Just sayin'.