how i organize my world

I’ve been exposed.

Which is why I feel so vulnerable today. Quick, where are the cookies?

How come so threatened, you say?

Well, it’s because I raised such snoop-dog kids. Yesterday I was minding my own business attending to important internet stuff. I didn’t notice Mr. JLW picking up the piece of paper I had set aside.

He starts chuckling. Then ruffling.*

JLW: Oh. My. Gosh. Mom, is this what I think it is?

I look up from my computer screen.

Me: Huh?

JLW: (More laughter). Your kidding right? He continues to read, then asks incredulously, You made a list of all your lists?

Me: (sheepishly) Maybe.

Me: Give it here. I grab it out of his hands. You shouldn’t go around picking up random pieces of paper. I say with a nasty tone: I don’t go around reading your private notes to self or lists or… whatever.

I glare at him angrily and shoot him a crusty.

JLW: That’s because I don’t write notes to myself. But it’s okay, mom, I’m not dissing you making a list of your lists. It’s something probably everyone should do. I think I’ll go write one right now. Snarky snark.

He starts down the stairs, still ruffling, er laughing.

JLW: And it was a long list, that list of your lists! He continues chortling all the way down the stairs.

I consider biting him.

True to pop psychology research (that says when a person is shamed they will lash out wildly in defense, by blaming or deflecting or getting angry and loud**), I show him not to make me feel foolish. Ha!

Me: (Sputtering) You’re shunned. And I bring down my right arm all Dwight-like emphatic.

Ugh. Exposure of the onion layers reveals such secret weirdness, eh?

Addendum: I consider adding him to my list of people shunned.



*family joke. ROFL = Ruffle. If something is pee your pants funny, then its Pleats.

**That's what they say about Brutus anyway. And why Olive Oyl was able to tolerate his presence, he was shamed as a child. But Popeye believed none of this.