Arguments with Children

Arguments with children…I don’t know why I even allow myself to be suckered in – EVERY SINGLE TIME. Perhaps it’s some kind of vague ambition to truly educate, and make a difference…so that years in the future the now fully grown child reminisces and admits:

“He was right! I’m so thankful he steered me in the right direction at such a young age…I will have to find him and give him renumeration in the form of a cash lump sum…after all I am now a billionaire thanks to him!” 

Or you know, words to that effect. Basically I think there is a rather paternal instinct present in me which seeks to sculpt young minds in a positive way; perhaps impart some wisdom accrued from experience, and whatever else…I’m not saying I’m Yoda (after all my face doesn’t quite resemble a ballbag to the same degree), but I am certainly living with the belief I can create more Jedis than Sith…

Yoda GIF

Yeah…what he said!

But it’s not as easy as all that. There are always curveballs with children – you can’t ever take anything for granted, you can never just assume ANYTHING; how did you get ice cream in your eyeball? Why did you put my sunglasses in the toilet? Why are you about to jump out of the window? Why did you…well the list is infinite, so I’ll  stop right there – hopefully you get the picture, which is that they are little maniacs at the best of time.

So how do you try and teach life lessons to those who would rather discuss smelly socks? Well with great difficulty, obviously.That doesn’t stop be from trying though, although it probably should – you see I have already had two separate arguments this week, each lacking in logic of any kind – but both ending in myself being ridiculed, and jeered for being an absolute moron (바보).

I had initially estimated both scenarios to be sterling opportunities to give some important guidance to the younger generation; the first being of the utmost importance (the plot of The Lion King), and the second a lot less pressing but still kind of necessary I suppose…(where babies come from)…

Eager GIF

Concerning The Lion King, we were looking at animals in my kindergarten class…and then having a bit of a debate about which animals we liked, and which we didn’t – some people were big fans of snakes, some enjoyed gorillas, others tigers…it was an all-inclusive zoofest up in that classroom! Until I chimed in…“My favourite is the lion! He’s the king of the animals!”cue tumbleweed, and bitter stares…should go without saying I immediately regretted voicing my stupid opinion.

“NO. LION NOT GOOD.” barked the entire population of the class…well, I was a little taken aback – but I reinforced my reasons which I felt were legitmate – “NO! NO! LION NO KING.” 

I calmly asked them if they had ever watched the film The Lion King – they all nodded that they had – “you see…the film is called ‘The Lion King’ – because the lion…is the king!” I thought that I had put it across in a simple enough way, that the kids could surely rec – “NO JOHN TEACHER, LION NO KING!”

I should have just left it. I should have…I know I should have, but I didn’t. I lost my cool – “RIGHT…in the film there is a big lion, yes? And he is the king. The film is called ‘THE LION KING’ – because he is THE LION, KING! THE LION IS THE KING OF THE ANIMALS!” they glared back at me, all four of them…until someone broke the silence; “the monkey is king. Grandfather king.” – everyone began to agree, and nod frantically before suddenly breaking into laughter, and sarcastically patting me on the back as if to say “you were wrong, but never mind.”

YOU SERIOUSLY CAN’T REASON WITH THAT SMUG LOT.

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The second argument came around today. And started off when for some bizarre reason a young boy asked me if I would rather have rabbits, or a rabbit. You get used to these seemingly inane questions when teaching kindergarten – and I find myself just answering without much hesitation or thought; “RABBIT! Just one…” As always with kids I was asked why, and I gave my reasoning which was that rabbits together have so many rabbit babies, and it can be like a mad house! Such a horribly boring adultish response, man I hate myself for even coming out with it, but nevermind.

“JOHHHHHNNN TEEEEEAAAACHER! SILLY, SILLY!” he crowed, in an imitation of the voice I use when they make a spelling mistake, or drop their snack on the floor. “BOY RABBIT, GIRL RABBIT OKAY! HAHA – JOHNNNN TEEEEAAAACHHHHERRR!” 

He went on to explain in detail how stupid I was, and why I was wrong in every way possible – I was under the false impression that daddy rabbits and mammy rabbits fall in love and then babies are dropped off by the stork, or whatever – but Daniel educated me in the truth and totally opened my eyes to the fact that rabbits are only trouble when you have the boys together – that’s how you get babies after all…

“But Daniel…you have a Mommy, and a Daddy…where did you come from?”

Ron Confused GIF

His mouth fell open a little, and his eyes peered around in confusion…as I waited patiently for the penny to eventually drop. But it didn’t. 

Instead he shook his head and yelled…“JOHNNNN TEEEEACHER, SILLY, SILLY”…and wandered off to get his chocolate milk, whilst chuckling to himself.

There’s always next time…one day…one day…

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The Sandwich Day

We are often told by Hallmark card sentimentalists that “life is a rollercoaster”, and that “there are ups and downs”, and whatever else they bother to print. Which may or may not be true, but that’s not the point I’m making. Instead I am just stating that these printed catch-all messages don’t prepare you for the real depressingly low slumps in the human experience. I mean if they did, then we wouldn’t be so shocked every time these ugly demons dared to spring forth and rudely shake us from our peaceful normality…

You see recently there were whispers around my workplace of a “sandwich day” for the kids. So naturally I was overjoyed! A WHOLE DAY OF SANDWICHES – A WHOLE WORKDAY OF SANDWICH DEVOTED WORSHIP! I mean come on…I said “overjoyed” – but there’s not even a word for how excited I was! Actually maybe there is…let me Google that real quick…ah wait, here it is:

I WAS RAPTUROUSLY BEATIFIC!   

Jim GIF

Yes…that! Imagine a whole day dedicated to sandwiches. I mean, I don’t know how it would really work – but I’m just imagining that maybe each kid brings in a different bread, or cheese, or veggies, or meat…and maybe there would be different sauces…dressings…or you know…whatever on the go – no biggie. Maybe we could test out which breads tasted better as they are, or which should be toasted. Just an idea! Oh! Yeah, and maybe we could check to see if certain cheeses complemented other items, and which worked against them and were a little too overpowering you know? Basically it would be a service to science in a way…we’d be helping people, we’d change lives. It wouldn’t just be about eating sandwiches – although that would be an obvious key component of the day.

Sandwich GIF

(These were my brief thoughts on the matter, I must make it clear that I didn’t spend too much time dwelling – and the proposed sandwich day definitely didn’t seep into my sleeping dreams…)

Anyway…it turns out the aforementioned sandwich day just means that we have the Tuesday off work, and not the Monday – or something like that. So Monday is like a huge stinking lump of ham in the middle of two glorious pieces of bread (the Sunday, and the Tuesday). Consequently ~ the term sandwich day was formed.

You’d think I would be pleased with all this talk of days off work, and whatever else…but that is not the case – instead I find myself mourning the loss of sandwiches that could have been…and burrowing away in daydreams about what they would look like, and how they would taste…

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Perhaps I’ll have my own sandwich day! Yeah, that’ll show em – off to the shops now, wish me luck!  

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Playful Heart

I forgot to tell you all something funny that happened a couple of weeks ago…I guess I’ve been pretty caught up and busy with everything as of late! But better late, than never! Right? 

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You see the new boss called me in – and I don’t know about you…but in those kind of circumstances I go into a strange child-like freak out, where I rack through my brains wondering what crime I have committed, and pre-planning all of the excuses I will use as and when necessary…

“Excuse me…cake…which cake? Oh…that cake, no I don’t…hmmm…no I can’t really remember – but I know it wasn’t me.” 

Problem is I go red, and sweat profusely whether I am guilty or not. Not ideal. I am sure that I would fail a lie detector no matter which ridiculous question was asked…

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“Do you think the illuminati is a real thing?” Well, no I – BRAAAAAP – LIAR!

“Does eating rabbit droppings cure cancer?” No, how could – BRAAAAAAP – LIAR!

“Is Nicolas Cage the best actor ever?” This is getting ridic – BRAAAP – LIAR!

Anyway, that went off on a weird tangent for a bit…sorry! So yeah, I was called in to a one-on-one meeting with my boss…who told me I had received a complaint, sort of. You see one of the mothers had called up and reported that her child is having too much fun, and that has now became somewhat of a concern.

She has been saying something about her heart beating so fast, and being so excited it often feels like it is going to fall out! “Oh…so too much fun?” I queried, to which she nodded in reply. “So…we should…erm…have less fun?”

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I was confused, and so was she…“ermmmm – no, no…but, errrmmm…yeah I just wanted to pass that on…just carry on, but…be careful?”

Fun kills guys. You should probably take care too! Everything in moderation – you don’t want to OD on it after all! Although if you’re going to go…that has to be up there with the best of em!

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Sugar Mommy

 Another day, another unexpected and definitely legitimate email…

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I googled the lady, as I was intrigued…and according to the very reliable Wikipedia, she inherited a fortune of $18.2 billion from some Walmart fella some years back. I’m shocked she would email little old me! I’m also shocked she can’t write properly, but never mind…

I wonder what her charity plans are…if she’s really teaming up with me, then maybe it will be a center for people who…erm…have often debilitating cheese addictions; CC we’ll call it – ‘Cheese Crack’. No…‘Coping with Cheese.’ Yeah, that’s more family friendly – we’ll go with that…that could be on a billboard, that could be on a commercial…‘Cheese Crack’ …not so much. 

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Extreme Makeover

Those who have even vaguely read any of my stories, will probably pick up that I am somewhat self-conscious when it comes to my looks…well, I guess most of us are. 

That’s why I nominated myself for an Extreme Makeover. 

This is me before the makeover! I was pretty excited!

Collage Face

And, this is me after my makeover – I really like my new look, what do you think?

Collage Face 2

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Maddening Meatballs

Are you sitting down? Because, you certainly need to be seated for this…as what follows here, may be the most excruciatingly painful bit of news you will here for some time…a horrendous event that has certainly scarred me for life, and has depressed me to no end. 

So it all started off relatively normal, I was hungry…which is always a vulnerable state to be in…you fall for marketing ploys more easily, and the lovely smells start to take on that cartoonish effect – where they basically carry you into the nearest restaurant! I wanted something quick, as I had places to go, people to see. So thought I couldn’t go wrong with good ol’ Subway. With being in Korea, I thought it would be a rare taste of the staple Western cuisine we all know, and love…this has been true throughout the world for me – actually I remember at the foot of The Great Wall of China, there was a Subway…and I held up the whole tour group (accidentally), when I decided I shouldn’t miss the chance to snag a foot long sandwich…I didn’t expect them to wait for me…but they did…so I had to  endure the rest of the walk up there with jealous faces staring at me, as sauce ran down my face…

kevin-smith-sandwich GIF

Anyway, I just got sidetracked, sorry…so yeah, I walked into the Subway, and was ecstatic to find that the meatball sub had some kind of special set menu deal thing going on…like a lunch time offer I guess. This was great news, because then I could tell myself that I did really well, that I was saving money, I was being a thrifty so-and-so, and that the money I hadn’t spent – could now be put towards something more productive…or even charity…yeah! It’s lucky I actually decided to come here, good for me…and more so, good for the WORLD!

So there I was waiting in line, planning out which veggies I may put in this, soon to be Nobel Peace Prize winning sandwich. And as I was doing so, I noticed the guy in front of me was ordering three foot long sandwiches…THREE! I would be amazed if they were all for himself, but it’s highly likely he is bringing them for some of his pals in the office…man, I wish I was his friend…that’s a true friend. Throwing you a sandwich, and giving the nod that says; no big deal (even though you BOTH know this is love of the highest kind). Or perhaps even leaving it by their computer with a little post-it note…slightly more sentimental…you could be like, “I love you thiiiiiis much!” Because…foot-long…foot is a measurement…and…alright, that’s only good advice, if you want to be the office weirdo. Apologies.

It was soon my turn, so I snapped out of my usual daydreams, and ordered what I wanted by a mixture of terrible Korean, English, and vividly illustrious pointing. I am a really good pointer…pointing is good in every culture, every country…smile, and point…smile, and point. Sounds like a workout DVD…but seriously, it WORKS. 

Pointing Bale GIF

“Aaaaahhhh! Meatuh-bol?” YES! She understood! We were in business! Once again the handy old index finger had came in…err…handy…anyway, I watched as she pulled out the bread, I couldn’t help but lick my lips in anticipation…she then cut it in half, and I nodded, almost like I was greeting it…she then opened up the metal tray for the meatballs – so far so good, nothing amiss! 

AND THEN THE WORLD WENT TOPSY-TURVY – STARK, RAVING MAD. PIGS WERE FLYING, I REPEAT – PIGS WERE FLYING.

I did think it was weird she put her hands in the tray…not a scoop, or a spoon…but I wanted to believe that it couldn’t be true. But before I knew it, I could no longer keep lying to myself. She pulled out a few rotten grey, grandpa testicle lookin’ balls, and threw them on the bed…I did one of those mini sick in your mouth things, but held myself together. I began to wonder what parallel universe I had wandered into…what version of hell is this?! The balls were so sad there on the bread, so alone…they were crying out for some marinara sauce…they were screaming, pleading with me…but there was nothing I could do, there was glass between us – it was as if they were on death-row, and I was coming to visit them one last time. But then the prison warden, the sick bastard she was…went, and made it about three hundred times worse…this must be how she gets her kicks…she picked up a mysterious bottle…everything began moving in slow motion…as she squirted lashings of ketchup across the balls, over, and over, and over again…drowning them into oblivion…

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…this was served to me with a grin…a cruel, cruel grin…as she held it out to me…“Meatuh-bol!” 

I gazed longingly at the poster next to me…it had been so full of promise – now all I have is a soggy ketchup testicle bun. The horror, THE HORROR! I cried bitterly as I ate it…and spent the rest of the afternoon skipping rocks across a lake, and thinking deep thoughts, about life…and why we are here…and how can there be a God if cruel things like this exist in the world?

I don’t know…it was just a lot to handle…I’m tearing up just re-living it…I have to go…

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