Assume no assumes. I am just Crazy Busy in the Face, trying to get out of town for a week.
As a place holder, and so you know it is all well, I am putting up and OLD post I love, that I had forgotten, that is true and dear. In it, Beautiful Maisy Who Is Barely Two is…barely two. This month? The baby below turns ELEVEN…
I’ll catch you up on the sequelization of America once I am safely in Virginia (I will be at the VA Book Fest Nets weekend, and writingwritingwriting holed up with The Mad Genius Known As Lydia Netzer until then).
Beautiful Maisy is barely two, and she has a white tiger doll named Siegfried. He was named before the Eaten Magician Incident of 2003. I am sure a white tiger doll named Siegfried is already NOT pc. But there it is. We have one. He is Siegfried and any attempts to call him “Tiger” instead are met with a blank stare and a refusal to understand who that is.
That is not even the problem. The problem is, beautiful Maisy can not SAY Siegfried. She used to call him a word that sounded like Swfog. But today, in the Wal-Mart, she very loudly found a new way to incorrectly pronounce Siegfried. She says it so it sounds EXACTLY — DEAD BANG EXACTLY — like….faggot. Yes. You heard me. Faggot. Clear as a bell.
And this is the girl who has such a high, loud, carrying voice that she sets off the WHISTLE BEEPER my friend Jan uses to locate her keys every time she gets within a city block of the thing.
In fact, Jan gave me a WHISTLE BEEPER because I am ALWAYS losing my keys, and it went off every time Maisy spoke, and Maisy NEVER stops speaking. EVEN when I shoved my keys UNDER THE SOFA CUSHIONS in the living room, Maisy could SET THEM OFF from upstairs. PS Did I mention the WHISTLE BEEPER has no off button???? I eventually took it into the backyard and beat it to death with a brick. ‘Nother story. ANYWAY….
Sentences Maisy shrieked cheerfully at 500 decibels as she danced through the Wal-Mart:
—Where my Faggot?
—I love Faggot!
—Bye Bye, Faggot!
—I Broke it, Faggot
And then she held up her monkey in one hand and Siegfried in another and IRREPRESSIBLY chanted FAGGOT MONKEY FAGGOT MONKEY FAGGOT MONKEY for 2 aisles.
Right now she’s running through the house yelling FAGGOT! FAGGOT! WHEE Ahhh YOU! as he has gone missing.
He has gone missing because we have more errands to run, and Faggot is not coming with us, thanks. Monkey must go alone. We will not go barrelling through the Publix piping out cheerful little derogatives in a high-pitched peeping voice that carries for miles. NOT ON MY WATCH.