Sturm und Mom

The Storm & Stress (& Joy) of Motherhood

Lawyers – They’re Born That Way



See…now I have proof that lawyers are born that way. This is a contract drawn up by my 10 year old to prevent her 6 year old sister from doing “Twisty Arm” in their room. What’s Twisty Arm? Well, it seems that the 6 year old is a bit double-jointed. She can twist her right arm around 360° and then wiggled her hand.  This allows her to grab on and hang from the underside of their bunk bed.  She then “un-twists” and spins around and around.  This, of course, makes her older sister and 99.9% of the general population want to vomit.  Ergo the contract.

If you are having trouble reading the scan above (it was written on a piece of corrugated cardboard) here goes:

If b—- doesn’t do twisty arm all week, starting monday, I will grant 3 wishs – you can not wish for more wishs.  if she can not make it A—- gets to send her out of the room When she does twisty arm forevermore

Signature

Signature

Other than the spelling mistakes (A—-, who wrote this, is an excellent speller when she can be bothered,) the best parts for me are the prohibition against extra wishes (thanks Fairly Odd Parents) and the term “forevermore” (I think that’s from Harry Potter.)

As to the contract idea and the signatures, don’t ask me.  It must be something she was born with…..

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If one kids is a born lawyer, the other one is a born seagull.  I left some big blue bags of recycling (clear blue garbage bags filled with recyclables that can be picked up by the garbage men) in the hallway, on the way out the door.  Suddenly, I hear this noise that was a cross of slurping and the sound a Steel Drum would make underwater.  It was my Big Boy (almost 3) who had ripped a hole in the side of a recycle bag, extracted an empty pop bottle, unscrewed the lid, and had his head tipped back trying to suck all the last pop-goodness.  I calmly began to correct him, and after 30 seconds of me yelling “that’s disgusting,” and “don’t drink garbage.” he actually figured out he had done something wrong.  As he walked to the corner, I marvelled at the hole in the side of the bag.  It truly looked just like when the birds get into it.  Those tiny little fingers are just like talons.

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Well, I guess I should be happy that Big Boy has left “Tiny Lion Man” behind as his favourite song.  (I mean “Little Lion Man” by Mumford & Sons.  Yes, he sings the swear word.)  Except tt’s this ridiculous “I’m a Gummibear” by Gummibår.  As I’m playing the video over and over again on YouTube, I noticed a strange ad pop up on the bottom — it was for Ivey MBA Program.  Now I thought, what would a kid want with a MBA?  But, then it struck me — they were hoping some parent, hearing that song over and over, would see that ad and think “If I got an MBA I could get a job and not have to sit here clicking Replay!  Ivey School of Business, here I come!”  Pretty smart if you ask me.  But maybe they should be more specific:

How’s that “Career Where I Make a Difference” working out for you?  Tired of being the only guy at Kindergarten pick-up?  Join the Ivey MBA Program:  You won’t be home until WAAAY past bath-time.

See, I missed my calling.  I should have been in Marketing.  You have to be born that way.

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Speaking of Euro-synth-novelty bands, who is going to provide us with them if Europe is demographically disappearing?  Where will the next Crazy Frog or “Cotton Eyed Joe” come from?  Will we be stuck with the Chipmucks and “The Hamster Dance”?  There must be more re-interpretations of “Popcorn” left.  Forget Western Civilization — don’t leave us all without a follow-up to “Blue”!

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