My Little Moralist

Some of you who know me might have realized by now that I have a different sort of sense of humor. Different as in bizarre, occasionally wrong, and generally offensive. I also, however, have a six year old voice of reason in my ear, literally, because GG2 is a very black and white kind of gal. I appreciate that aspect of her personality but it really does put a damper on my fun sometimes.

Incident number one:
Before Christmas, the Geek Fambly was riding somewhere in the Fambly Truckster, a.k.a. the MiniVan of Pain. We stopped at a light in front of the Family Dollar parking lot. Lo and behold, what should we see, but a drug bust! In the middle of the day! In the Family Dollar parking lot! GH and I immediately began craning our necks to see what was going on, happy for once to be stopped at the red light. There were three police cars, their lights flashing, and a man in handcuffs, looking a bit sheepish. The kicker was that this man, handcuffed for a drug deal in the Family Dollar parking lot, had a freshly purchased Christmas tree in the bed of his truck! We could tell it was freshly-purchased because it was neatly encased in one of those net things like the nice people at Home Depot put on your tree, even though your three year old sobs while it's being done, plaintively crying for his twee! Twee! I digress. So GH and I started laughing uncontrollably, the two of us making up a scenario (that was probably true) of this guy, innocently telling his wife, "Hey, baby, I'm gonna go get a tree and be right back" but what he really meant was, "Hey, baby, I'm gonna go get high in the Family Dollar parking lot. Be back tomorrow!" As we pulled through the intersection, GH spotted the drug dealer a few parking spaces away from the Christmas tree buying druggie. We could tell he was the dealer because he, too, was being fitted with his own pair of shiny Christmas bracelets. Plus, also, I am sad to say, the dude was really too well-dressed to be fraternizing with ol' Mr. I Just Want a Tree, Officer.

GH and I are just cackling away, loving the scenario we've created, amused by the oddities of small-town drug dealing, when from the back, I hear the strong, clear, girly voice of my Moralist: "Mom! Dad! It is wrong to laugh at other's misfortune! It is not funny that those men got arrested or that the one man's family won't have a tree now!"

GH and I glanced at each other, immediately sober, as we realized a harsh, dawning truth: We would have to whisper our mocking comments to one another and laugh silently, since this kid was totally killing our buzz.

Incident number two:
A stupid woman cut me off in traffic, two times in a row, one right after the other. I said, "Hey, dummy! Get off the phone and drive!" From the back came the piercing voice of my Moralist: "Mommy! That woman is not dumb! She's doing the best she can!"

No more vocal road rage, I guess. Gotta keep it all inside.

Incident number three:
One of my favorite songs is Jimmy Soul's "If You Want to Be Happy." In case you don't know the lyrics, here's a snippet: "If you want to be happy for the rest of your life/don't make a pretty woman your wife./Go for my personal point of view/Get an ugly girl to marry you." I love that song so very much; the lyrics are hilarious and the beat and rockin' tempo always makes me happy. It made sense to me, then, to purchase the song for my iPhone so that I can lift up my fainting spirits any time with a dose of Jimmy Soul. So buy it, I did, and jam it out, I attempted. Halfway through the first verse, my Moralist cries out, indignantly, "Mommy! Is that song saying what I think it's saying? That he should marry an ugly woman?" I nodded, still bopping to the beat. "Mommy! That is just wrong! There is no such thing as an ugly woman!"

I looked at her in disbelief. "Yes, there is, honey! There are plenty of ugly women out there!"
She stared back at me, my own shock mirrored on her tiny six year old face. "No! There are no ugly people in the world! God doesn't make ugly people! Everyone is beautiful in God's eyes!"

Sigh. No more listening to Jimmy Soul without my headphones on, I guess. This kid can ruin anything.