Human Growth of Crazy

I just got the biggest bait and switch from J-man’s school. If they think “No child left behind” is their biggest problem, just wait til they have to deal with my “crazy bitch in your behind!”

So a while back, I get this innocent little “Hi, how ya doin!” note from the teacher just wanting to let all the parents know that the students will be spending a “thrilling” week learning all about Human Growth. Oh yes, her letter was just oozing with excitement for this “new program that has been proven around the country to teach children all they need to know about the human body. But of course, since there’s always some academic bureaucracy us teachers have to go through, would you please sign this letter saying you’ve read it and are just as excited as I am to have your child participate in this amazing new learning experience.”

Now, in retrospect, yes, I probably should’ve looked for the “But wait! There’s more!” or seen if it came with a fucking “Snuggie” (and seriously, what the hell is up with that?! They’re like damn zubaz for old people! “Sorry, oldies, we know you can’t put your pants on anymore, so just wrap it up like a burrito and shimmy it down to the Dollar Store in this. Really, people won’t know.” Spoiler Alert: Yes, we will. We really will.).

But truth be told, all I was thinking is “Hells yeah! If this saves me the googagillion dollars I’d have to spend taking him to Body Worlds, not to mention viewing a bunch of de-skinned, veiny nutsacks and milkbags, well thank you public school system!”

So I sign it, a couple weeks go by, until finally one Monday J-man says:

J-Man: So, we uh, had Human Growth today.

Crazy Pants: Oh yeah?! How was it?

J-man: Well, uh…it was ok, I guess. We watched a movie.

Crazy Pants: Yeah? What was it about?

J-man: Hmm, well…there was a man and a woman and they were in a bathtub with a rubber duck. And then they both stood up and were covered with bubbles. The woman wiped away the bubbles on the man’s chest and they started talking about how men could get breast cancer. Then he wiped away the bubbles off the woman’s chest. Then the next scene is them in bed, under the covers, going BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!

Teacher Bitch is going to die. What kind of Larry Flynt, Hugh Hefner fucking academia bullshit is this?! And this isn’t human growth this is straight up “preparing your kids for a life of porn surfing.” WTF!

Now I’m a reasonable woman, and I know Lady Crazy Pants has had her fair share of late night porn surfing, but that was for research! Plus, slap my dumb ass and call me shorty, but I’m traditional. Sorry, I want him to learn about porn like every other little boy in this day and age, hiding under the blankets with a flashlight, laptop and internet connection only to get caught by his mother in order to live a life of eternal shame so he never gets married! THIS IS MY BIRTHRIGHT!

But that wasn’t the worst part. Oh no…the worst part was what came next. The questions. Oh the questions. Girl, I would have rather been following the back end of a donkey in a donkey parade with my mouth open then to be subject to the questions.

J-man: So, mom, do you and (Future Mr. Crazy Pants) have sex?

Crazy Pants: (Gulp. Choke. Vomit. Vomit. Choke.) Uh, what honey?

J-man: Do you guys have sex?

Crazy Pants: Well, uh, sure. But you know it’s not something you do with just anyone. I don’t want to scare you (Yes, I do. I really, really do), but it’s something special between two people who really love each other (God, I need a drink). So, you know, you only do it with someone you would die for (Wine Bottle with a straw, please) because there are diseases. Big scary diseases!

J-man: Alright! That’s enough. You scared me. Going to bed now. I’m done.

Victory! And one to be celebrated in style (of the Sangiovese varietal)! So I reveled in the sweet, warm glow of my “future therapy inducing” child nurturing skills, until a few days later Human Growth reared it’s fucking ugly head again.

J-Man: So, we watched another movie in Human Growth.

At first thought, the appropriate response seemed to be ‘Oh really? What the hell did Bitch Tits provide for your Human Growth viewing pleasure today? Sally sells her baby? See Dick today, Jane tomorrow? Just what flavor was it this time, lovey?’

Luckily the sirens went off and my head editors quickly stepped in before the memo made it to my mouth.

Head Editors: Sweet Jesus, Crazy! You’re talking to a 10 year old!

Crazy Pants: Shit, ok. Thanks.

So I got it together to reluctantly continue the conversation.

Crazy Pants: Yeah, so what was it about?

J-Man: (Giggling. GIGGLING!!) Oh well, it was about babies. And I have a question.

Crazy Pants: Oh, of course you do my sweet little man of curiosity. So what is the question?

J-Man: No. I can’t, never mind.

Crazy Pants: No really, seriously. What is it?

J-Man: Well, when I was a baby and you breastfed me…did it…tickle?

Check please. I’m all done here. Yep, I'm sure.