Hashtag True Story

One morning last week, we were running late. The kids had taken longer than usual in the waking-breakfast-teethbrushing-bedmaking marathon and they were rushing to get shoes and jackets on so that we could leave for school. We were almost out the door when Miguel said, "Oh no!" and ran back upstairs. I yelled after him, "We don't have time for 'Oh no!'" and began the usual nagging lecture about how he should make sure his stuff for school is packed the night before or early in the morning before he starts looking at Instagram.

He came running back down the stairs and said, "I forgot to do an assignment that is due today." I sighed my disappointed sigh and he said, "Don't worry - hashtag I will get it done hashtag I will go to college hashtag I will get a good job hashtag totes hashtag law school hashtag aw yeah." Then, he turned to me, wiggled his eyebrows and nodded his head and all I could do was laugh, "Go get in the car!"

In times like those, I am so glad I speak his language. Being a blogger and social media person makes it easier for me to keep up with him. He uses instagram and so do most of his friends. Whether or not they are on Facebook and Twitter and the million other social media platforms, they know all about them through that unique cultural hive mind that seems to connect us all.

Last Saturday, we had to take several things to the venue where our wedding was going to take place. We had a giant cake and more alcohol and non-alcoholic beverages. Luisa and I had our hands full - literally - with boxes of stuff. Miguel ran to the door to enter the security code. It was four numbers followed by the pound sign. He entered the numbers and then we kept yelling, "Hit the pound sign!" as we fought to keep from dropping everything in our arms. His eyes scanned the security box, fingers hovering. "Hit the pound sign! Come on!" He hesitated and looked back at me. Then, I got it - "Hit the hashtag!"

BOOM! He got it and we were in!

Hashtag digital generation

Hashtag glad I speak hashtag

Start with the Quail

We entered the restaurant laughing. I can't remember why but I remember the laughter clearly, my hand on my stomach and my eyes watering. The hostess asked if we had a reservation and then asked for a name and Deborah said, "Veronica" which is her Starbucks name and that made me laugh harder. It was obvious that the hostess did not find us charming and she probably thought we were drunk. I wanted to say, "We haven't had a drop to drink!" but she interrupted, "And the last name?" I turned to Deborah who was staring at the woman, eyes wide in obvious panic, "Uh..."

She was stumped and, though I could have helped, all I could do was watch and laugh. Deborah said, "Uh, no one's ever asked for my last name..." I wanted to point out the ridiculousness of that response because it's not like she's Cher or Madonna or Beyoncé but I was mesmerized by the mess of a conversation. Finally, Deborah's shoulders slumped in defeat and she said with a sigh, "It's Goldstein."  The hostess put her hands together as if in prayer and said, "No more questions or answers." She was done with us and sent us away with a server.

This was our last night together and we wanted to splurge a little so I decided to have the quail. As we sipped our wine, we talked about the first time I'd eaten quail.

Deborah: "Where did you have it? Did you like it?"

Vikki: "Well, my dad owned a bar and he had an 'Eat What You Killed' party and I had quail there. I did like it."

Deborah: "Back up. 'Eat What You Killed' party?"

Vikki: "It was a like a potluck and people brought things they'd killed like quail and pheasant and squirrel and deer and rabbits and raccoon."

Deborah: "Oh my god."

Vikki: "I'll tell you one thing - raccoon is tough. Or maybe it was poorly prepared. Actually, I think that might have been the issue because I'm not sure they got all the fur off."

Shortly after that, our food arrived and there were two tiny little quails on my plate. I had forgotten how small a quail is and I was daunted at the task of gracefully deboning the two tiny birds. It required all my concentration - slicing and poking and digging around to avoid all those bones. It was delicious but it was a lot of work and I was afraid I would grow weary before actually feeling full. I had to rest between wrestling with them and, during those breaks, I had to figure out a way to eat my greens and pea tendrils without having the latter dangle from my mouth or snake up my nose.

Dinner suddenly seemed perilous.

As Deborah ate and drank with ease, I regretted my birds and tendrils.

I kept my eyes on the plate the whole time, conversing but not making eye contact. Then, at one point, I looked up and that brief moment of inattentiveness cost me.

Vikki: "I swallowed a bone."

Deborah: "Really? Are you okay?"

Vikki: "Well, it was a substantial bone. Like maybe an entire wing or something."

Deborah: "And? Are you okay?"

Vikki: "Yeah. I think it went down lengthwise which seems like a good thing. Cross ways would be worse, right?"

Right.

So, I drank a lot of water and gulped aggressively to make sure it went down and then I drank my wine and hoped for the best.

Later that night, we sat on the roof of our hotel and drank bourbon and I said, "If I turn blue tonight, remember the quail bone. But I'm hoping I don't die in my sleep." Deborah said, "Me too. It's so hard to get an outside line on that phone in our room."

And then we laughed until we couldn't breathe.

When you find someone that laughs at the same things you do, even when they are the darkest of things, that's when you know you've found a true friend and hold on tight.

Note: Any inaccuracies in the reported conversations are due to oxygen deprivation from the quail bone in my throat and/or the bourbon.

Photo Credit Abaconda via photopin cc

Kids Are Funny - Part 5

I am leaving tomorrow for the SalonLGBTQ conference and should probably be ironing right now in preparation. Instead, I'm ignoring everything I need to do so that I can revel in some more of my kids' twitter witticisms...twittercisms? These quotes were all taken from 2012 so Zeca was 7 and Miguel was 11.

Can anyone guess my favorite?

Me: "You won't get Christmas presents!" Miguel: "I feel sorry for you-you won't get to see your child smile and I know how much you love that." (2012)

Miguel: "Be relieved of your tears and let me take your burden!" re: his desire to chop onions for me. (2012)

Zeca to Miguel: "I bet if you grew gills on the side of your face and opened them Girl X wouldn't have a crush on you anymore." (2012)

Miguel: "Why does Momo always sleep on you and not me?" Me: "Don't know."  Miguel: "I guess she must be gay." (2012)

Miguel: "You're going to an all queer camp?" Me:"Yeah." Miguel: "Will the cabins have names like Gay Raccoon?" (2012)

Looked down at the lake & M was naked. L (yelled from deck): "Miguel! Why are you naked?" M: "Well...it's a long story..." (2012)

Zeca: "He's like a calculator!" Miguel: "Yeah but he's a calculator for MATH, not crime. I'm a calculator for crime." (2012)

Miguel: "I'm hungry. Me: "I'm Vikki." (followed by my hysterical laughter) Miguel: "And now? I'm creeped out." (2012)

Luisa and I were dancing to We Found Love and Miguel said, "Well, you sure know sexy lesbian dancing!" (2012)

Miguel trying to convince me to make crepes after this sleepover: "My friends might like you now but you can't count on that forever." (2012)

Zeca: "Are you wearing a bra?" Me: "No." Zeca: "I didn't think so. Shouldn't your boob be up here?" (2012)

Zeca: "I am watching a new TV show. It's a little dumb but not racist or sexist." (2012)

Zeca: "Is rainbow a compound word?" Me: "Yep. It’s squished together." Zeca: "Yeah! Just like zom-bie!" (2012)

Me: "You know who makes Mike & Ikes?" Zeca: "No." Me: "The same people who make peeps!" Zeca: "You?!" (2012)

Me: "I'm not perfect." Zeca: "Nothing is perfect but my perfect love for you." (2012)

"Coffee makes me sweaty on the head." ~ Zeca (2012)

"Do you feel my pain about wearing pink snow pants? Do you feel it mom?" – Zeca (2012)

"...and that's why it is torture for me to wear pink snow pants." - Zeca the Oppressed (2012)

"Guess who we want to run this city? Me!" - Zeca, future overlord (2012)

 Also, everyone can rest easy - the pink snow pants are gone. Whew.