This is my 80’s theme song for the day. [What?! You don’t have a daily 80’s theme song?!??]
Who doesn’t remember, “My Very Educated Mother Just Sold Us Nine Pickles.” (Or ‘Pizzas’ if you’re from New Jersey.)
Now – according to the carpool made up mostly of the 5th-grade-and-under crowd – the mnemonic device for remembering the order of the planets is, “My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Noodles.”
Wait! Whaaaaaa??
If this mother is so educated, why can’t she go out and get a real job? Instead she’s selling food to her children?!? Or in this latest version, she’s serving unhealthy meals to them! (noodles? NOODLES?? Where’s the protein/veg/fruit??)
And also? More importantly (maybe), what happened to Pizza/Pickles/Pluto??
I’ve heard rumblings about this for some time…but when did they officially remove Pluto from the planet line-up? And WHY do they even get to do that?? And who are THEY that decided in the first place?!? Shouldn’t we have put this to a group vote or something? I had to MEMORIZE stupid stuff about this planet when I was a kid. Who has the right NOW to say it’s no longer a planet?!?
This is similar to the scam about ‘time’ that happens in the Spring and Fall. I mean WHO gets to decide we’re losing or gaining an hour of our lives?? Is it the same people who decided about Pluto…and did they give an extra set of votes to the people in Phoenix?? I mean, it seems to me there’s a bit of favoritism going on with the Phoenix folks since those people don’t have to spring forward (or is it fall back?) with the rest of us. So for at least half the year, anarchy rules in Phoenix. And where my mother lives in Virginia? It’s all anarchy, all the time. I’ve lived in Colorado for 13 years now and my mom STILL can’t get the time difference thing between Virginia and Colorado right. She calls SUPER EARLY in the morning, acting like she was doing me a favor by waiting until 7 a.m. her time to call me.
Her: “Yep. Hi, Hon.”
Me: [all sleepy yet with my heart pounding furiously because surely my mother would only call so early with BAD news.] “Uh, Mom. What are you doing? It’s 5 a.m. here.”
Her: “What?! I waited until it was 7 my time so it would be 9 your time.”
Me: “Mom. It would only be 9 my time and 7 your time IF I LIVED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ATLANTIC OCEAN!”
But I digress. Back to my diatribe on planets. This all came up because the third graders in the carpool have a planet project due today (nothin’ like leaving the mother $%^&ing planet project until the week BEFORE the last week of school). My son did “Earth” for his project. (At least the people in charge of time and space didn’t eliminate Earth while we were in the middle of the Atlantic being distracted by phone calls from our mother. Can I get an ‘Amen!’ on that, Sista?!?)
Here’s how the whole thing rolled out. He blew up a 99 cent beach ball from the craft store. Wrapped the $#it out of it with blue duct tape. Then used a green sharpie to draw continents on it (and his hand AND the kitchen table. Permanently. In Green. But I don’t think he’ll get extra points for that).
It’s a crazy, blue, smeared ball of lunacy – but it’s done AND the school year is almost over. I hope I…er…HE gets an “A” on it to finish off the year in style. “A” as in AMEN, Sista!