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Category Archives: A day in the life

Blatent Product Endorsement: BRACH’S BRIDGE MIX

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While in college, I worked as a retail sales associate at one of the two gas stations in my hometown.

Sometimes it was stressful working with the general public. Other times it was boring when the stream of customers hit a lull. It was cleaning, stocking, food handling, cash register, and balancing the end of shift paperwork. It was a lot of work for little pay. It was also probably the funnest job I have ever had.

Since I can't find a picture of the gas station I worked at, here is a picture of me headed off to work, in my uniform shirt.  My mom took this picture without my consent, so yes that is the face of someone saying the f-word to their mother:)

Since I can’t find a picture of the gas station I worked at, here is a picture of me headed off to work, in my uniform shirt. My mom took this picture without my consent, so yes that is the face of someone saying the f-word to their mother:)

One reason was I had a lot of freedom to spend my time however I wanted. That is how I discovered my love of finding expired food products (more about that in a future post). I sometimes mixed up the cleaning products to make a streaming mystery floor mopping solution (hey, my trainer showed me that!). I got to make sale signs on the computer using clip art. I got to hang seasonal decorations from atop a very tall, rickety, non-OSHA approved ladder.

It was also fun when I would close the store, then stay up all night with my friends, then drive by the store 5 hours later to wave high to the manager, who opened. He would shake his head in disapproval and say things like “You haven’t even been to bed yet, have you?” (Note: The manager was only like 3 years older than me, and in college as well.) Ya, those are the amazing things a college student can do with the magic of youth.

One day a week the grocery stock would arrive. I usually worked the closing shift, so my job was to price (yes, we still did that back in the ye olde days of my college years) and put out as much of the stock as I could before close. It was kind of exciting because sometimes we would get in new products.

Who would be the first to try the new kind of chips or candy?

ME!

I learned that moon pies are gross–a lesson I have not forgotten to this day.

I learned that Charleston Chew is only good if it is fresh and chewy. I also learned this is almost impossible because it doesn’t stay fresh for long, even while still sealed in the package.

I also learned about the wonder that is BRACH’S BRIDGE MIX!

Brach's Bridge Mix Photo: ferrarausa.com

Brach’s Bridge Mix
Photo: ferrarausa.com

I was restocking the Bridge Mix one day and took the time to actually read the package. I had just assumed it was reserved for little old ladies playing the card game Bridge. I had always gone for brand name, flashy packaged chocolate treats, like Hershey’s or Nestle or Reese’s.

But Brach’s Bridge Mix contained a variety of yummy things. Cremes, caramels, peanuts, cashews, raisins, cherry jellies.

ALL DRENCHED IN CHOCOLATE!

How did the little old ladies keep this a secret from the rest of the world for so long?

People should be giving this out for Trick or Treat on Halloween!

I have been hooked on Bridge Mix ever since that day. If you like chocolate and you haven’t tried it yet, you should. It is a chocolate lover’s dream come true. It is like a box of chocolates, but without having to guess which fillings you will like and the cumbersome box.

Surprise! I actually like all the fillings in Bridge Mix. [For more on what I will and won't eat, click here.] I am not crazy about cashews, but I will eat them. I think the white creams are supposed to be coconut (and I don’t like coconut), but it isn’t strong enough to bother me.

I will note that fresh bags are much better than older ones. If you bite into a cream and it breaks, rather than gives, you should possibly lodge a complaint for your money back with the company.

WHERE ARE MY TWISTERS!

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I AM FRUSTRATED!

Photo showing "Traditional" and "New" style ponytail holders

Photo showing “Traditional” and “New” style ponytail holders

I have used the same type of Goody hair twisters (that is what we always called them at my house), A.K.A. ponytail holders, since I had enough hair to put into ponytails. The good old, tried and true design. It was a cloth covered elastic (usually the cloth was some sort of primary color), then had a gold accent wrapped around the cloth. Finally, a little metal crimped piece held it all together. Sure, after repeated uses, eventually they would get too stretched and need to be thrown away. But that could take years! They lasted forever!

Now Goody makes crappy new ones that they call “Elastics”. Funny, because isn’t elastic supposed to return to its original shape? These elastics just get bigger every time I use them. I had to wrap the traditional ones around my hair 3-4 times. The new ones are 4-5-or-6 times. I have fine hair. Even using all of my hair, it makes a rather small ponytail. If I make two (yes, I know I am too old, but I still sometimes do), then they are even smaller. Now there seems to be some trend to make twisters that can double as a bracelet. SAY WHAT?!? They have a metal accent on them that is an inch or two wide. MY PONYTAILS ARE NOT THAT WIDE! And either wear it in your hair or on your wrist. Don’t be so damn indecisive.  And I have a nickel allergy, so I would never wear them anyway.

Maybe this is the company’s goal: To make a product that does not last as long to promote repeat business.

I realize I have probably missed the acceptable window of time to bitch about this. I am down to three of the “traditional” twister designs left in my house. And I am sure my mom probably gave them to me (Probably when she had cancer and was losing her hair and thought she was dying….see here and here) and she probably had them in a bathroom cabinet for a good 10 years before that. So, I am too late to even hoard the last of the supply (as I did with Hostess Little Chocolate Donettes–still have some in the freezer).

Goody calls themselves “America’s #1 Elastic”. That is because they are the only elastics on the shelves of every major department store that I visit! I would buy a competing brand if it was made in the old style. I even checked at the dollar store, hoping they might have a more “traditional” twister. No luck. Maybe I should try Kmart. They are usually the place to look if you want to find something that hasn’t been in stores in 10 years. (Sorry Kmart, but it is totally true).

The new twisters also tend to slide out of my hair after several hours. There is no texture to them to provide grip as the traditional ones had. There is no metal to provide traction, as the traditional ones had. Why do they not sell them anymore? Is it a “broken hair” issue, because I really couldn’t care less if my hair breaks off. I grew up in the 80′s, when every chick bleached, permed, curling ironed, and hair sprayed their coif daily. What is a little piece of metal going to do compared to that! I did manage to find these today and purchased them. I hope they will stay in my hair. I would have bought smaller diameter ones, if they had been available.

Found these at the store today.  I will give them a try, but do not have high hopes.

Found these at the store today. I will give them a try, but do not have high hopes.

My mom says to just use rubber bands. This is the woman who for years has told me how when she was growing up her mother used rubber bands in her hair and they pulled it. She has a story about the rubber band breaking on her. SHE is the one all these years that convinced me that I was too good for plain rubber bands. SHE is the one who trained me to buy this product that no longer exists.

I did find a spot randomly on the Internet (I will be darned if I can find it again), where lots of people talked about twisters made out of a pantyhose type substance, but smaller in diameter. They said they could be used again and again without stretch, they don’t break, and are supposed to be better for your hair. Someone said they bought some in that style from Ulta. I checked Ulta.com, and this was all I could find that seemed even close to that description:

Ulta.com

Ulta.com

Am I the only person on the planet who wants the old style of hair twisters back? I can’t be the only one on the planet who hates change, can I?

Alternative To The Spork

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You might remember that a few months ago I wrote a moving blog post about that under appreciated little eating utensil known as the spork.

Well, my son has taken this to a whole new level.

Introducing, the Dino Fork!

My son, using a dinosaur tail to eat his food.  Inventive!

My son, using a dinosaur tail to eat his food. Inventive!

Ya, I know. My kid is an absolute genius!

Dear Worrier

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Reblogged from The Other Courtney:

Last week, Isaac and I deep cleaned our house and I found an important letter stuffed in an old desk drawer. When I received it from my therapist, Ken, two years ago, it was a lifeline when I was drowning in a sea of worry and anxiety. Finding it was a good reminder of where I was and how far I've come.

Read more… 754 more words

This is a great post from The Other Courtney. She has lots of insights into sleepwalking, eczema, and anxiety. Oh, and she is damn funny too. This is a post about worrying and it sounded like something that might be helpful to me, so I printed it and am also reblogging it. I hope you find it useful too.

I Will Never Be Freshly Pressed

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My asbestos friend will be very angry at me when she sees the title of this post. She is a deep believer in manifestation and the law of attraction. She believes that putting this statement out into the universe will make it a reality.

And I believe that too. Somedays. Other times I believe you have to worry about something to prevent it from happening. But usually that only gives me a stomach ache. And something completely different that I never thought to worry about can go wrong in its place.

Today, well, I am trying to make myself stop hoping for something that will never happen. To become Freshly Pressed on WordPress. (Their list of the best of recent blogs, updated daily–or so they claim.)

It would, indeed, be a great honor.

But, occasionally, I write a deeply personal post that, while my blog is pretty anonymous, I would feel weird if the masses read it. Those posts I am glad that they are not picked to be Freshly Pressed.

To anyone else, I am sure my blog looks like a disorganized jumble of craziness. When I look at my blog and what I have created, it makes me happy beyond words. Sometimes, I just visit it to gaze with wonder and amazement that I have my own website, my own URL, and I get to chose what is on it.

To a thirteen year old today who grew up amidst such technology, it would not seem impressive at all. But when I was in high school, the Internet wasn’t something everyone had in their house. Not every product had a website. It was common to not even know the terms Internet or website. I did my big final paper for my Bachelor’s degree in college on comparing the websites of radio stations. That was a big deal then.

While I crave praise in my life (I chalk that up as being my mother’s fault), I am going to have to settle for my blog to just make me happy for sake of being there. I fear my genius (yes, that’s a joke) will never be featured on Freshly Pressed.

I crave praise so much that I have been known to create awards...for last place. (Wes Nile 4EVA!)

I crave praise so much that I have been known to create awards…for last place. (Wes Nile 4EVA!)

But I probably won’t give up hope that Ellen might mention my blog some day on her show. Seems like a good fit, I think;)

What I Learned This Week – 4/7/13

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This week I learned that squirrels are more evil than I ever suspected.  Just look at what one did to my dog!

The leg is still there, just heavily bandaged.

The leg is still there, just heavily bandaged.

Now, I do feel like I may have helped to manifest this. I did tell my dog, Parker, he should kill the squirrel in our yard. I even told him that if he got bit or scratched in the process, I would take him to the vet and get him fixed up. I also had a plan on Friday to go to the vet and purchase more heartworm preventative.

But, well, Parker impaled himself on a metal post in our yard in what I can only suspect was pursuit of a squirrel on Tuesday afternoon. A metal post that would not have even been there except we put it there to prevent him from escaping out a gap at the bottom of the other two fences.

The scene of the injury.  The squirrel runs up the tree on the other side of the fence.  The green post used to be straight up.

The scene of the injury. The squirrel runs up the tree on the other side of the fence. The green post used to be straight up.

I feel a little guilty. I did momentarily forget both dogs outside. But that was for like 10 minutes. Parker had been left outside unattended longer. (We have a fully fenced in yard. Not that that keeps my dogs from escape or mayhem.) And really, who expects their dog to crucify himself on a 4ft tall metal post?

Tuesday afternoon, my husband is just walking out the door to go to work. He attempts to let the dogs in for me. We discover that Parker has what is (let’s put this delicately) a giant hole ripped in his front right leg doggie armpit. I grabbed my first aid kit. My husband, who JUST started a new job as a temp and CANNOT be late stayed 5 more minutes. He helped me get the injury wrapped up, and put Parker in the car. (Dude, that dog weighs 60lbs. I can’t exactly cradle him in my arms.) I called the vet. They said the doctor was out on a call and wouldn’t be back for an hour. She made it sound like I should hang out at home for a few more minutes. Then she said I could come in if I wanted and they could pressure wrap it while I waited.

When I got there, she said my wrap job was good, so they just left it til the doctor returned. The doctor, without looking at it yet, said it would be 30-45 minutes and asked me if I wanted to wait or come back. She said she would give him something to make him sleepy. I waited.

I skipped laying my son down for a nap because I just couldn't bring myself to close the curtain on this poor, injured dog.

I skipped laying my son down for a nap because I just couldn’t bring myself to close the curtain on this poor, injured dog.

I could tell when they removed Parker’s bandages. The assistant came in and told me he ripped quite the hole in himself. Then she came back in and asked if it was OK if they did a chest X-ray, because the doctor was worry he may have punctured his lung. (He didn’t.) Then the doctor came in and informed me that my dog had tried to rip his leg off, but luckily he was unsuccessful and had missed the muscle, tendons, etc. He was lucky he had missed his main blood vessel (which apparently she could see beating). If he had clipped that, she said he would have bled to death before I could have gotten him to the office.

They ended giving him full anesthesia and intubating him. We were there for another two hours.

Now, you might think this is a lucky dog. But remember, he is also a determined, stubborn, entitled dog.

In order to not pull out the stitches, they wrapped his whole front leg to his body. Essentially, he is a tripod. Except, well, he knows his leg is still there and tries to get it out.

Thursday morning my husband took Parker to get a dressing change. By the time they arrived back home (approximately 20 minutes), Parker had worked his leg out. Back to the vet they both went. My husband arrived home a second time–with a dog who had 4 legs visibly showing. We went back the third time that morning, and got re-wrapped again.

This time we tranquilized him. Probably a little too much. The tranquilizer was to keep him from messing with his bandage or doing silly things like trying to get on the couch.

The vet also recommended greatly confining him. But my incredibly tired and exhausted husband didn’t get around to it. Or maybe he thought the dog didn’t need to be.

By Thursday afternoon, he was laying in front of the couch (an obvious play to make it up on it) and he had used his back leg to scratch at his bandage, exposing his drain. (Gross, I know. Sorry.)

So, I re-bandaged a drugged dog who couldn’t stand up as well as I could. He is leaky, but at least we didn’t have to take him back again.

By Friday morning, the dog had made his way into our bedroom. This is the furthest spot from the back door, where he needed to be taken out because he hadn’t been outside in hours and hours. So, using a beach towel as a sling around his torso, I half-walked/mostly-dragged him out the back door. After a brief rest, he did pee. (Ya!) After another brief rest, he ate and drank and took more tranqs. (Ya!)

On Saturday morning, Parker had another vet appointment. He was hobbling in on his three legs, all pathetic. He got as far as the lobby and stalled, as if he did not have another ounce of energy left in his doggy body. That is, until the resident cat walked by in front of him. He did a couple of lightning quick dives trying to get it, but only ended up with a face plant.

They decided to leave off his bandages because the skin was suffering from too much moisture and a lack of fresh air. So, he has his leg back, but is favoring it. We are to keep him tranquilized til his next appointment on Monday. He has a giant doggie cone collar on, but I was worried about him scratching his injury with his rear foot. My mom came up with an excellent idea to put a sock on his back foot to reduce the damage. He was a little more himself today.

There is a good chance he might have to have a few stitches redone where the skin is necrotic. I am worried about how concentrated his urine is, but that could be because his water intake and trips outside are way down. He is eating and drinking and pooping and peeing though, so I will take those all as good signs.

My 2 month old son seems jealous of all the attention Parker is getting. So is Dave, my other dog. I am just exhausted from being a caretaker. The dog is on 9 pills a day right now. And we have to keep his wound clean and dry and put Aloe Vera Gel on part of it.

I was originally going to give potty-training my boy another try next week. I think it can wait a little longer. Oy.

I saw the squirrel in the backyard today. It could have just been the light or his coloring or that he had just scratched his licey, flea-bitten body, but to me it look like he had a scratch on is side. It would make me feel better about all this damage to Parker if I knew he had least took a little hide off that squirrel.

Watch out, squirrel. Remember…I have TWO dogs.

What did I do to myself?!

What did I do to myself?!

Disco Buddha

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There once was a chick who had a job where she got to enter fun and quirky items such as Itty Bitty Buddha kits into a computer database for future customers to purchase. Sometimes these items would find their way to her desk.

Itty Bitty Buddha Kit, by Running Press

Itty Bitty Buddha Kit, by Running Press

And sometimes an Itty Bitty Buddha just begs to bust out of his boring shrine and live it up with his homies!

Disco Buddha (customized)

Disco Buddha (customized)

When I looked at the plain old Buddha in his cardboard shrine box, I heard a song in my head that went “Disco Buddha, Disco Buddha…” [You have to sing it to the tune of Kool & The Gang's "Jungle Boogie". No, I am not old enough to know this song, but Buddha apparently is.]

But I knew he needed a tiny disco ball.

My dear, sweet co-worker Megan came through with one just the right size. And she didn’t even laugh at the reason I wanted it (much). Then Buddha needed some friends. Karl the pencil monkey and a Homies dog seemed to fit the bill. (I don’t know why Karl’s name is Karl. That is what the person who gave him to me told me that was his name.)

Disco Buddha also needed a poster for his wall. You probably can’t tell in the picture, but Disco Buddha is a Capricorn. (All the coolest people are.) He also loves sick days. (On the back of his shrine is a sticker that says “I [heart] answering my phone in a foreign accent”. But he keeps that one hidden, because it isn’t very PC (the blame for that actually should go on the company who manufactured the stickers!).

And, that is all Disco Buddha has told me. Hopefully no one will find this sacrilegious or anything. It can’t be any worse than Buddha banks or Buddha T-shirts. Disco Buddha just likes to be happy and spread the love.

Disco Buddha preferred sitting on my desk, but as I currently don’t have one, he has to reside, for now, in my kitchen.

Sing it!  “Disco Buddha, Disco Buddha, doodle-dee, doodle-dee…”

Job Applications: To Be Me or Not To Be Me?

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JOB-flowers

I applied to work at a local flower shop last week. The last page of the job application was what I refer to as “essay questions”.

They were actually appropriate for the position I was applying for, but I just automatically think up creative answers. And it took me a few minutes to come up with answers to them, so I am glad that they were written and not part of the interview!

Here are a few below and how I answered them. Would you hire me?

This is a fast paced job, dealing with lots of different emotions. What can you do to provide the customer with top quality service?

WHAT I ACTUALLY PUT: Sometimes I worry that my customer service might not be good enough. Then I realize that is that will set me apart from those giving me minimal service at big chain stores. I care about the experience I will provide to someone else. At [Local Convenience Store], I provided excellent customer service every day. When I gave my notice, they begged me to stay and become an Assistant Manager.

MY EXPLANATION TO DEAR READERS: I was trying to turn a negative into a positive. And I have been trying to brag about when I left my job and they begged me to stay for years, but I can never work it into an interview. I wouldn’t mention it, but they actually tried to get me back twice–once when I gave my notice, and once while I was at the laundromat a few months later. (Hmmm. Maybe I should cut to the chase and just apply there again! I would like to think my skills have advanced a little since then, though:(

What is one thing you look forward to doing if hired?

REAL ANSWER: Buying groceries, getting a haircut, buying new underwear.

WHAT I ACTUALLY PUT: I look forward to participating as a part of a team to provide the best products and service to the customer.

I have been trying to “be myself” lately during interviews and filling out applications.  Or maybe it is that I can’t help BUT to be myself.  But, alas, as I still do not have a job, maybe employers just don’t GET the real me.

Ugh!  It is like high school all over again.

My Pseudo Dad

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As I have mentioned here before, my dad died before I was born. I grew up watching sitcom fathers on television. I went to my best friend’s house and watched her father (I can only think of one friend whose house I regularly visited in my my teenage years who had a father in their daily life).

What did I learn from all this observation?

I learned that a dad’s job is to make sure your car gets fixed properly.

I bought my first car in 1997. Since that time I have thought of the Service Manager at my local GM dealership as my Pseudo Dad.

pseudo
adjective
1. not actually but having the appearance of; pretended; false or spurious; sham.
2. almost, approaching, or trying to be.

http://dictionary.reference.com

He is old enough to be my Dad, but he is maybe 5 years younger than my mother. That would make him about 20 years younger than my actual dead dad.

You can’t argue with my logic. He always makes sure my car gets fixed.

Me in my first car. 1989 Pontiac Grand Am

Me in my first car. 1989 Pontiac Grand Am

I present to you some semi-boring examples of car repair below.

My first car, a 1989 Pontiac Grand Am, started making very bad banging sounds when I went over bumps. I thought it might be a problem with the shock. I was partially correct. The problem was a hole had rusted right through the trunk, and now my shock was actually in my trunk. I made arrangements to get it fixed the same afternoon. My pseudo dad called me that evening to tell me about a friend of his who could fix it at a discount for me. As I had already dropped my car off somewhere else, I didn’t take him up on it. In retrospect, I probably could have saved some money if I had taken his recommendation.

On one occasion, I took in my second car, a 1994 Pontiac Grand Am, to get the oil changed. It had been making a bad sound when I drove, but as I had no money to get it fixed, I was ignoring it. Well, it turned out it was a bad wheel hub or bearing or one of those things in your wheel that is expensive and goes bad regularly on all the Pontiacs I have ever owned. My Psuedo Dad wanted to fix it right then, but he could tell from my questions that that wasn’t my plan. He asked why, so I told him. I didn’t have any money until I got my paycheck, which would be a week away. He had the mechanic do the repair on my car. All I paid for that day was the oil change. They trusted me to come back in a week and actually pay them several hundred dollars, which I did. My husband would say that it was probably some sort of critical repair that they weren’t allowed by law to let me leave without repairing it. But no one told me that at the time. So I choose to believe that my Pseudo Dad was just trying to help me out.

On another visit to the dealership (Probably for an oil change. I am pretty diligent about those. 203,000 miles on my current car proves that it is a smart strategy.) with the same 1994 Grand Am, my Pseudo Dad noticed that I had a sock tied to my drivers side mirror. Now, there was a logical reason for this. A semi had ripped my side mirror loose in a freak freeway entrance ramp merge gone bad. It was only hanging from the cords that connected it to the handle inside the car for adjustment. I tied the sock to the mirror so that it would prevent/reduce the mirror from scratching up the paint on the side of my car as it bounced around. My Pseudo Dad asked me if that is how I was drying my laundry. He found it very amusing. I did eventually get the mirror replaced, but I never got it painted. So the replaced mirror was flat black and the original one was glossy black.

A few months back, I thought my 2004 Pontiac Aztek was dead for good. I went to run an errand. I shut my car off and ran inside. When I returned to my car, it would not start at all. I had had no problem starting it 5 minutes before when I was at home. And it started to do this weird buzzing thing, where the needles on all my gauges would bounce up and down in sync with the buzzing. I left the car and walked home. I was afraid it would blow up.  (That would have been REALLY bad.  I left it in the parking lot of my insurance agent.  If my car burns down their building, do they still have to pay out the insurance for my car?) The next day we made a plan to take it up to the dealership to pronounce it dead. My husband ended up letting the tow truck company take it back to their garage, because he thought maybe it was just the battery. (Just a battery? But the thing WAS TICKING LIKE A TIME BOMB!) When I called to cancel the appointment with my Pseudo Dad, he talked to me for about 10 minutes, explaining how to check the voltage to see if it was a bad battery vs. a bad alternator. And he explained how a low battery can set off the anti-theft device. (I was not even aware that my car HAD an anti-theft device!)

When it comes to car repair, Pseudo Dads and GM Service Managers know what they are talking about. I don’t think my Pseudo Dad is still the manager. I think he has stepped back and is helping to train the new manager. Which is fine, as long as he is still there. Hopefully his retirement and my purchase of my dream car, a Jeep Wrangler, will coincide with each other.

My Pseudo Dad does not have the conventional looks of a sitcom dad. But, I am proud to call him my fake dad. Except that I don’t tell him I think of him that way. Because, you know, that would be weird…

Army Man Uproar

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I wasn’t planning to post today, but dang, this got me fired up.

Last week a 9 year-old boy’s parents in Caro, Michigan sent him to school with decorated birthday cupcakes for the whole class. The decoration? A green plastic toy army soldier on each cupcake.

Photo: Facebook/WTOL11

The Offending Cupcake            Photo: Facebook/WTOL11

My first reaction? “What a great fast and easy and cheap way to decorate cupcakes for a birthday! You can get a whole bag of those soldiers at the dollar store for, like, a buck!”

Apparently, the teacher and principal didn’t see it that way. They removed the soldiers before giving the cupcakes out to the students. For the complete story, click here: http://www.toledonewsnow.com/story/21547930/student-causes-cupcake-controversy-at-caro-school

The story states that the principal felt it was “‘insensitive’ considering recent gun-related tragedies”, including the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary.

WTF?

What does a green plastic toy of a WWII (or maybe even WWI?) army soldier with a gun presumably protecting our country have to do with mentally unstable people breaking laws with guns?

I first saw this on a local news station’s Facebook newsfeed. This was my comment:

I think I would expect the school to over-react to these. But I would probably take them in anyway just to p*ss off the school. And since when is an image of a soldier defending our country offensive!

We don’t want guns in schools–Totally Agree.

We don’t want mentally unstable kids planning to bring guns into schools–Agree.

We need to teach younger kids that talking about bringing guns to school isn’t a funny joke–Agree.

We need to discipline kids who talk about playing with Hello Kitty bubble guns, eat their Pop-Tarts into gun-shapes, and remove toy army men?–That is going too far.

Photo: DailyCaller.com

Photo: DailyCaller.com

We have to teach our kids what is acceptable and what is not. We have to teach them context and satire and parody. Even the FCC has problems with these concepts sometimes. I am still trying to teach my husband not to make bomb jokes at airport security or drug jokes at the Canadian border.

If these were my son’s birthday treats, I would be very angry. I would have to make a point that both M’s grandfathers were both in the Army (one in WWII and one in Vietnam) and fought proudly for this great country we live in. By the way, a country where we have freedom of speech. And the freedom to bear arms.

And, another point I would make, is that the military, guns and all, is a necessary and noble career choice. Would these cupcakes be allowed on career day?

And don’t anyone try to turn this into a political debate. (Remember, this is my blog and I have ultimate veto power over comments!) Sure, the President has brought banning assault rifles into the forefront of the media. But Sandy Hook happened, and people in his party concerned about this issue rightfully told him now was the time to approach it. I get that. Just like when 9-11 happened, George W. Bush used it as an excuse to finish a war his father started (whoops, I am being overly preachy now). But I got that too. You have to strike while the iron is hot, so they would say.

I would be offended if someone brought in cupcakes with Spongebob on them. I hate that guy! But I wouldn’t remove him.

So, in conclusion, enjoy America, learn that sometimes a toy is just a toy, and don’t judge cupcakes so harshly that were probably made by a very tired mom at 11PM at night after a long day of work, who didn’t have the time or energy to put little eyes and cookie mouths on the cupcakes to turn them into politically correct teddy bears.

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