The Tank?

So, my parents read my blog, a reality both flattering and scary. I find myself taking deep breaths and repeating (in my head, I think), "I'm a grown-up. I can do what I want. I'm a grown-up. I can do what I want." I got an e-mail from Dad today:

Dearest Anne,

I suggest you stop using ‘SK’ as a description of my wonderful grandson. Just saying……

Love--Top

I'm so proud of him. Not so long ago, he would proudly proclaim, "I'm sending you an e-mail!" And it would arrive - several days later in an envelope. His secretary printed his e-mail for him and if there was a funny one, he might photo-copy it and send it around. Frankly, I preferred this to e-mail forwards, because it always came with a nice note*. Dad is nice, which is probably why he would prefer I not call The Tank a sh*t kicker.

But here's the thing. He is what he is. In the courtyard outside the lovely chapel where each of our sons was baptized stands a small statue of St. Francis, surrounded by smaller statues of animals. Reverent children ooh and aah as they pass, perfectly behaved. On a recent sunny Sunday, my child, whose baptism obviously did not take, was kicking the animals over, one by one, as if to mock them for their devotion to St. Francis. And he was smiling sweetly as he did it. So I responded to my dear father:

Eh. I know, I know. But did you see him kick over all of St Francis' animals at Trinity? Humiliating.

How can I not call SK what he is? I would be denying his adorable little essence. Dad, as persistent in his private life as he is in real estate, responded:

Had not heard. Wow! Didn’t humiliate me, so I still think he’s wonderful.

*Sigh* Don't you hate it when people are so nice it's hard to say no? But, I am a grown-up. I can do what I want. And it's my blog, gosh darn it**! I'll compromise. In general, I'll refer to our youngest as "The Tank." When the situation demands it, however, he must be called SK. If it sticks, so be it. He can always tell people it stands for "Spider Killer" or "Soda DrinKer." Nicknames are cool.

By the way, I bought SK The Tank some of those little froggie boots today. How cute are those? He's been stomping around in them all night...um...kicking sh*t. What is wrong with me?

Namasté, y'all!

* Speaking of email forwards - and this has to be a footnote, because it's a total digression - my husband asked me what the etiquette was for sending a Snopes link to someone who sends you a ridiculously stupid well-meaning forwarded email. I said to send it but make a little joke to soften the blow. Not a day later, I got an email from someone I haven't heard from in a long time, maybe even years. I was excited. It was a forwarded piece of poop telling me to forward it to a billion people so I could get a free laptop. Or lap dance. Or something. I was so irritated I replied to everyone with the Snopes link and nothing else. Forgive me. The email started with "Free LAPTOP FOR KID'S". If you know anything at all about apostrophes, how could you possibly think that email was real?

** That was for you, Dad!