A short post on nationalism being incapable of withstanding the light of reason made me discover a weird fetish some people have:
You’d be surprised at how many people want to see naked photos specifically of Israeli and Jewish men. Curiously, there hasn’t been a single search for naked Israeli or Jewish woman. I have no idea what that means, especially since the post referenced an article about naked female soldiers in Israel.
I’m discussing my horrible suffering with PUPPPS with my mother.
“Ah, now you see why women always hate their daughters-in-law!” she exclaims triumphantly in the midst of my monologue about the horrible suffering I experience.
“OK, how do you connect this to daughters-in-law?” I ask.
“All of this effort and suffering you undergo in your pregnancy, and then some hussy appears in your son’s life and refuses to do what you tell her! How obnoxious is that?”
I imagined how 30 years from now we’d be sitting at Eric’s wedding and I’d jump up and hurl myself at his bride, yelling “Die now, bitch!” In the meanwhile, N. would be showing everybody my pregnancy records and explaining that I had gone soft in the brain because of how hard it was.
Of course, Eric can do us all a favor and decide to marry a guy.
My mother is absolutely the best mother-in-law to her daughters’ husbands. You seriously cannot wish for anybody less intrusive, more welcoming, tactful and kind. However, I’m starting to think that it’s a good thing she never had a son because she probably would not have been the same great mother-in-law to his female partner.
The problem with breastfeeding activists is that they don’t know when to stop and, as a result, end up sounding quite ridiculous.
The woman who gave us the birth preparation classes is a very intelligent and helpful person, even if she says “we, in the lactation circles. . .” way too often. However, her eagerness to convince people to breastfeed takes her a little too far and her entire message becomes devalued.
“Studies have shown that the poop of breastfed babies smells sweet and beautiful!” she exclaimed. “And the poop of bottle-fed babies stinks!”
Of course, the ideologically correct poop always smells of roses but just try to imagine what those “studies” looked like. Scientists walked around smelling the diapers of 200 breast-fed and 200 bottle-fed babies and evaluating the pleasantness of the smell?
I’m yet to take the breastfeeding class, and I just hope that the class doesn’t turn me away from the idea. I definitely want to try breast-feeding, but I have a well-developed critical capacity, and stories about poop you can eat for dessert annoy me too much.
And I really hope nobody attempts to resuscitate that tired old canard about breast-fed babies developing better intellectual capacities than bottle-fed babies. I was never breast-fed, and I’m more than willing to have an intellectual pissing contest with anybody in that audience to see how many degrees, languages and publications their breast-feeding past has gained for them in adulthood.
I kind of resent suggestions that I’m intellectually deficient in any way when they come from people who have not yet demonstrated to me that they are any more intellectual than I am.
P.S. Sadly, N. totally bought into the good-smelling poop story and started giving my chest appreciative looks of the utilitarian variety I’m not used to be getting from him.