Well, after 18 years, apparently he's finally rubbing off on me. According to my recent batch of kiddos, I am now "cool."
You see, Big Daddy is a gearhead. He loves nothing better than talking about obscure makes and models and how the headlights on this one make it a certain year and the trim model on that one makes it something else. He loves the feel of grease under his nails and the smell of gasoline as an aftershave.
Apparently the group of kids I have this year are aspiring gearheads as well, because several of them have made the car show circuits with their parents and have met my husband.
Today, in the middle of class, one of my kiddos started a rather convoluted story about how he had met my hubby at a car show, but didn't realize it was him.
"He has the coolest shoes! They look like Rat Fink's feet."
(For those of you unlucky enough to not know who Rat fink is... here ya go..)
"You *let* your husband wear shoes with Rat Fink's feet on them?" one boy said in wonder. "My mom would NEVER allow that."
"A friend of ours painted them for him," I confessed. "I think they're his favorite pair of shoes."
"She lets him go to car shows too," stated another student. "I've seen him at a lot of them."
"No way!!!" one kiddo said in surprise. "My dad never gets to go to those! Mom won't let my dad."
"Her husband has THE coolest truck," added one little boy who's in the know. "It's old and lowered and rusty and awesome."
"You're a lot cooler than my mom," said one student sadly, shaking his head.
Thank you, thank you, very much.
Because I LET my husband go to car shows, (like I could keep him from it), since he gets to pick out his own clothes (not *always* the best choice), and since he bought a hunk of metal that desperately needs a paint job and an overhaul, I'm suddenly cool to my seventh graders.
Yay me.
This group also is fascinated with my ear piercing. One of my students the other day was shocked the first time he saw it.
"Is that real?" he questioned.
"Yep." I said.
"Is it magnets?" wondered another aloud.
"Are you kidding me right now?" I asked. "Who wears magnets and pretends they're earrings?"
"My mom does," one said.
OOPS.
"So you let someone pierce your ear three times? That's so cool. I've never seen a piercing in that part of the ear before."
"I think I want to marry a girl who has that. She would have to be cool and she could take pain, so you know she could have kids. She'd be a good mom."
Ummmmm...okay.
The tattoos on my feet are another source of amazement.
"You have tattoos?" one girl stated, slightly in awe. "On both feet?"
"Yes," I said with a smile.
"Did they hurt?" another student asked.
"Someone was piercing my skin with a needle, multiple times, and injecting ink into it, of course, it hurt. Anyone who tells you tattoos don't hurt at all is lying or has forgotten," I told them honestly, hoping to convince them to never get one until they are old enough and wise enough to choose a design that they will love forever.
"Those are cool tattoos. You're not at all a douchebag like my mom says people are who get tattoos," said a kiddo, smiling up at me. "You actually seem pretty cool."
Thanks unknown mom, for creating preconceived notions about people and helping your child be prejudiced about someone, just for having a couple of tattoos. And for teaching a kid the word douchebag. Nice.
Yes, my body is a temple, and I chose to get stained glass. No cathedral is perfect without it, and apparently they, and my husband by association, make me cool this year.
Go me. I've always wanted to seem cool to seventh graders.
My life is now complete.
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