Dog in Elk!!!!
That and the whole root thing remind me that elements of this crew get me closer to trouble than anywhere else.
That and mom jokingly bringing up my knocked up cousin at 45 in reference to me not having any. Choked on a laugh and a drink of water and it was...bad. Mom knows I'll 99% likely not have kids. She's ok with that. There's no pressure. But when she does pretend pressure, I crack up. This came at an inopportune time. Luckily, we'd been talking for a bit already. And she established I wasn't about to drown.
Heh.
When the word "grand-dog" first came out of my mother's mouth, I knew I was in the clear. Not that I was concerned - my mom wasn't the type to pressure on that sort of thing - but still.
I kinda am weird about the idea of grandcats, which thankfully my parents don't do. I can't equate kids with pets.
But with my brother and SIL expecting their unexpected second, these issues come to the fore. Honestly, mom still thinks of the 1% chance with me. Not pressure, just curiosity and because we're so close, I think she wants our closeness (which is that of parent+kid+ adulthood= friends with history) to be repeated in me and a kid. My 1% is much more unlikely than hers, to be nice. I've talked to her about this. I'd be fine being a mom. But I'm as fine, if not finer, not being one. It'd take a fair amount of other elements to convince me.
I kinda am weird about the idea of grandcats, which thankfully my parents don't do. I can't equate kids with pets.
Oh, hell yeah, I would never have even thought up the word, it shocked me to hear my mother use it. And she was about the least sentimental person in that sense - it wasn't remotely meant...literally, I was about to say, but duh.
But my point, if I have one, was that yeah, it wasn't equating dog-kid in any way, so much as an acknowlegement that if she was waiting for me to pass on her genes...well, there was a lot more hair and longer nails and teeth in her family than she'd realized.
Oh, I know. It's just a term that weirds me. Sorry to extrapolate. I'm in an odd headspace.
So there's this new documentary about Swiss assisted suicide. Sounds interesting. But this bit in the NYT review....
The organization is strict about whom it will help. Those with severe depression are turned away unless that depression is connected with a terminal illness. Only Swiss residents are eligible because there is the fear that if Exit accepted people from other countries, Switzerland might become a mecca for euthanasia tourism.
"Euthanasia tourism" seems like an odd way of putting it. And also kinda' funny.
[link]
Oh, no, I wondered right after I posted if I sounded defensive. Because no. People who refer to me as my dog's mom get the death glare. Which, okay, people who pass me on the street sometimes do to. But the mommers have earned it.
Moms and dads totally earn it. I think our brains were not cooperating! Heh. And god knows, my damned cats get plenty of press time here.
I wait until the dog mom has referred to herself as a dog mom before I apply the term. My in-laws treated my dog Mac like a grandkid (or at least well for a dog) for the 10 years we were married without kids. It was a nice diversion for her and it was a reminder for us to get around to having human children.
When the word "grand-dog" first came out of my mother's mouth, I knew I was in the clear. Not that I was concerned - my mom wasn't the type to pressure on that sort of thing - but still.
My mom refers to my cat as her grandcat. She's got 8 human grandchildren which takes any pressure off of me for any more. Not that she really pressures, but she had some moments before her first grandchild.
ION, I am still at work. I am leaving now because the server just knocked me off, but I'll be back early. Blergh.
