Buffalo Gals, Won't You Come Out Tonight?

There is a new man in Roger Kimball's future daughter-in-law's life. And he's German. The previous young man in RKFDIL's life was German too. Clearly I need to start teaching her about World War II before this German fancying thing of hers gets out of hand. A few weeks ago she told me that "When I wasn't looking, he (German Boy Number 2) ran right into my heart."

Until yesterday German Boy Number 2 sat next to her in class. He helped her with her math assignments every day. She doesn't require help with her math assignments. When they go to the school library, she helps him select his book. For the last few weeks she has neglected to bring home a book because she has spent too much time helping him with his book selection. He doesn't require help with his book selections as his mother is a former primary school teacher which naturally makes him one of the best readers in First grade. I've just been taking all this information in and pondering what to do with it. Pondering until yesterday.

Yesterday, German Boy Number 2 demonstrated to the world, well to the class anyway, what Churchill long ago knew about the Germans : The blood is off with the entire bloody lot of them. German Boy Number 2 showed the class his underpants. They were Sponge Bob underpants. I asked RKFDIL what she thought about him showing his underpants off to the class. She said, "It was hysterical!" "Really?" I queried. She replied, "Yes, Mommy it was so funny. It was like the time Daddy wore Little Bertie's diaper on his head at the restaurant."

Well, she had me there.

When the kids were really little and we wanted to got out to dinner as a family, we would take them to family-friendly restaurants. Family-friendly restaurants where parents could get an adult beverage. Or in other words, restaurant chains. The Cards being good parents themselves, as well as good sports, would often meet us at the restaurant 3 1/2 year-old RKFDIL liked best; The Olive Garden. The particular Olive Garden we would meet the Cards at was considered an executive Olive Garden. Yes, Olive Garden actually has tier one and tier two restaurants franchises and leave it to the Card's wife to find the nearest tier one Olive Garden. Since it was a tier one Olive Garden, it did not enjoy a brisk senior citizen trade early bird at 5pm but rather a brisk trade of exhausted parents of small children who didn't want to cook dinner and in need of a drink. But when we were there, there were still customers who were trying to have a nice meal out.

Now, when Mr. P gets with the Card things happen. Things happen because Mr. P is German and his blood is off. The Card is married to a German and her blood is off. Add a bottle of wine to this mix one never knows what the outcome will be. One night at The Olive Garden with all the Cardinals and Peperiums assembled, a lively discussion about the Reformation brought Mr. P's eclesiastical pretensions to the surface. He reached inside Little Bertie's diaper bag and grabbed one of his diapers. With a flourish worthy of any female Episcopal bishop, Mr. P donned the diaper on his head and announced to our table from this day forward, we were to address him as Cardinal Chundar. We all burst out laughing even Little Bertie. Because my blood is off, I let him wear the diaper for the rest of the meal, while he paid our tab and even drive home with it on his head.

Roger Kimball's future daughter-in-law has never forgotten the night Daddy was Cardinal Chundar. She loved it so much she would ask him to be the Cardinal at home. He, naturally, was all too pleased to grant her request. That love of her Daddy wearing a diaper on his head now has her falling for the charms of a young man who shows off his Sponge Bob underpants in class. Thankfully the teacher seems to be on top of things and German Boy Number 2 and RKFDIL no longer sit together. She now sits next to another German Boy who tools around his neighborhood in a battery-operated Jeep. (Trouble ahead if she's like her mother) Also, in the lunchroom she is sitting at the boys table. I asked her why she's doing this. She said, "Mommy, I like sitting there so I can pick out who I'm going to marry."

These are the times that try a mother's soul...

Understanding that my first duty is to remain calm, I have quietly undertaken a mission to nuance our daughter's thinking. During bath time last night, we for the first time talked about God's plan for her life. I explained to her that being Daddy's wife and mother of she and Little Bertie was my vocation. Because I had figured out my vocation, she had a happy mommy. We talked about her wishes to marry German Boy Number 2. I told her that it may very well be that being married is God's plan for her. But that she has the responsibility as she grows up to discern if being married is really her vocation. Then if it is, she needs to discern who it is God really wants her to marry. Attempting to be a good Catholic mother, I also posited the idea that maybe being a nun is her vocation. She asked who she would get to marry if she were a nun. "Jesus." I replied. "I want to marry someone I can see." she said. "That's what you think now, but you don't know that for sure yet." I replied dropping the subject.

After she fell asleep, I thought about how as she grows up, I need to be always gently telling her what qualities she needs to look for in a man. That's when my old ideal of a man came back into my head. I was looking for George Bailey. George Bailey had his dreams. George Bailey was definitely hot stuff. But most importantly when push came to shove, George Bailey put aside his dreams and hot stuff to do the right thing.

And do you know what? My George Bailey looks pretty darn cute with a diaper on his head.

Buffalo Gals, won't you come out tonight,
Come out tonight, come out tonight.
Buffalo Gals, won't you come out tonight
And dance by the light of the moon...

Mrs. P

Comments

Classic stuff Mrs. P as always - speaking of Episcopal gal bishops...

Mrs. P says:

"With a flourish worthy of any female Episcopal bishop, Mr. P donned the diaper on his head and announced to our table from this day forward, we were to address him as Cardinal Chundar."

Just reminded me from the ncc watch blog

http://bp1.blogger.com/_7Yg8yOWssog/Rc6BhrsnA4I/AAAAAAAAABU/IGK9mJzGCbA/s1600/Roskam_feels_the_beat_md.JPG

caption quote below

"Picture above of Episcopal Bishopress Cathy Roskam of New York getting her “freak on” and jiggling her Protestant booty on the multi-cultural inner city streets of the Bronx at the Trinity Hip Hop Mass July 2, 2004. Notice how the sheeple follow her - like lambs to the slaughter they are - but we guess ignorance is bliss. You go girl!"

[Mrs. Peperium]

Thank you Mandingo. Ms. Bishopress is a silly condescending piece of work.

And probably not too bright as well.

[Fr. M.]

Thank you for giving RKFDIL all of her options including religious life. Whether she marries or whether she takes vows I have no doubt that the seed of the Faith her parents have planted in her heart will bear fruit.

[Mrs. Peperium]

Thank you Father.