Blacksburgia webisode 22: Pandapas Excursion
Pandapas Excursion
A WASP family adopts a child from Africa in order to impress their fellow affluent neighbors, who they believe are not convinced that they are charitable and kindhearted. They take their children to Pandapas pond, only to embarrass themselves.
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Blacksburgia webisode 7:
Cloth Carpet
A young married couple with a child recounts their journey from regular diapers, to cloth diapers, to cloth toilet paper, to— finally—their invention and advocacy of cloth carpet. Much like the diapers and toilet paper, the couple discovered that they could save on worrying and constant cleaning if they just allowed their toddlers to urinate, defecate, and vomitate on their cloth carpet made from recycled materials, which they wash once among with a steam vac. The go on and on about the benefits. Very practical.
You see, this is sometimes a parenting blog, and as a parent, I am therefore an expert.
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Saturday I took my son for his first haircut. His first professional haircut. Before then my wife would lay him on her knee as he slept and comb out his hair, trimming the ends of it onto a towel in the dim light.
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“Excuse Me, Bob,” says my 20-month-old son to an elderly man one night at a small group Bible study, as he squeezes past his towering legs and into the kitchen.
I’ve already begun to think of the advice I will dispense to my son one day:
“Brush your teeth.”
“A penny saved is just a penny, just put it in the penny tray at the fill-r-up”
“A foolish man sets his heart on a McRib; he does not consider the consequences.”
“You start dancin with a girl like that, you’ll be makin some babies.”
“When in doubt, cut the blue wire.
“Don’t touch that.”
“Invest in computer companies.”
“Never talk on your cell phone in a drive-thru”
“I never said that.”
“Look, kid, just stay away from gangs, drugs, and cyberporn on the internet, and you could be the President some day. Well, even if you do those things, apparently.”
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“How To Have an Abortion” by Bryce A. Taylor
as first published in First Things.
Don’t think about the freckles he, or she,
Might have, or how much hair, how big a grin,
Or whether swimming would come naturally,
Or whether–it?–might play the violin.
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Bonsack
It was not the petting zoo my son was enthralled with
Out at the farm in Bonsack
It was not the piglets, not the goats
Nor the bunnies nor the cows
Only a moment he spent
In the kernel pit before wanting out
Or in the pumpkin patch before nursing
And though he has a love for tractors
Sitting focused at the wheel
Mastering the gears and levers at sixteen months
Though he rode with us on the hay wagon
With eyes wide for the pasture
It was in the corn maze that he screamed for his daddy
Not with fear
But with blooming vigor for the continual rush of life!
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My son learned to say “byebye” a few months ago. Learned how to wave before he learned to say “byebye”, actually. It wasn’t long before we noticed that he would wait to say “byebye” to people.
It’s a family reality show that should not have happened, according to probability. It would be hard sell, you see: A show about a duck call warehouse—no. A show about a family that wears camo and beards all the time—no. A show about a family that celebrates their faith and eats good food—no. Producers might give such a family a 20-minute spot on some show about America’s unique families. They look like Tolkien characters given rifles and Southern accents. And yet someone saw the potential in giving the Robertson clan their own show.
CALEB COY 