Suburgatory (31 page)

And I, “Dr.” Victor Brown will take your “erotic transference” and run with it! My practices have run me afoul of the American Psychological Association, and thus I am no longer a certified therapist, nor can I travel beyond the town line without notifying authorities. But I can assure you that you will leave our sessions tingling and exhilarated. Now, I may be a little more Abe Vigoda than Gabriel Byrne, but I can still daddy you up with the best of them. Call the doc, and let this “Paul” take care of all your needs, “Laura.” One hour will never fly by so fast.

Child with “Mullet” Pressured
to Leave School

Suburgatory, USA—A six-year-old child has been pressured to leave his private school because his “mullet” hair style has been deemed “disruptive” and “disturbing” by school officials.

Officials at Hamilton Knoll Academy refused to comment on the matter, but several parents, who all requested anonymity, described the controversy. “No one here has one of those trashy mullets! My kid kept coming home and asking me about it. ‘Mommy, [name withheld to protect the child] has this really short hair in the front and long in back! What is that, Mommy?' I don't want my child to have to know what a mullet is.”

This reporter met with several concerned mothers at a local Stitch-n-Bitch meet-up on Central Street. “Look, I just got done explaining what Diwali is to my Eamon. It was so confusing for him. And for me, frankly. Now I have to explain what a mullet is? I seriously didn't think anyone still had those!”

Another parent tried to explain to her daughter that this child came from “another culture.” The girl asked, “What culture, Mom? Is he Native American?” The parent remarked, “What was I supposed to say? The kid's white trash? My daughter knows culture. She's been to Venice!”

The attendants of the Stitch-n-Bitch gathering were asked to describe the parents of the child in question, who were unavailable for interview. In the words of one mom: “You know, it's really weird. They can afford the tuition, but they have a dumpy car with a public radio sticker, and so for a while I thought, ‘Oh, they must be lesbians! That's why the kid has a mullet!' But they weren't lesbians. I saw the dad at Open House.”

The mothers were nearly unanimous in agreeing that it would have been much easier if the parents had, in fact, been lesbians, as this culture has already been well examined in the typical kindergarten curriculum.

Another mother who attended that open house said: “Yeah, I was thinking before I saw him, ‘Maybe he's a famous ex-hockey player? And has a family history of hockey hair mullets?' But he was a total schlub.”

One mother disputed the notion that the family was white trash. “No way. Not with that public radio sticker. I heard they don't even have cable. And their last name sounds Jewish. Jews aren't white trash. But a Jew with a mullet? I mean, I'm at a complete loss with that one. Could they be hipsters? Is it an ironic mullet?”

She agreed that regardless the mysterious cultural background of the parents, the child's mullet was an unwelcome distraction for her child. “McDermott could not stop staring at it. He's got ADHD. It's hard enough for him to keep it together in the classroom. I'm just glad the head of the lower school agreed to do something about it.”

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Child Can't Convince Mom She's Beautiful Inside and Out

Suburgatory, USA—A local mom insists she is “fat, hairy, and hideous,” despite the protestations of her son, who tells her she is beautiful “just the way she is.”

“Mommy, why are you crying?” said six-year-old Brian Gardner to his mother, Judi Gardner, who was hand-­tweezing some stray lip hairs after a wax appointment earlier in the day. “I'm just getting rid of the hair, honey, no big deal. It's just . . . just gross!”

Brian was troubled by this. “But I like you a little fuzzy, Mommy! Like here!” Brian touched his mother's arm. “
Ugh!
See, even you noticed my freak arms. Mrs. Sasquatch. I have to do something about that. Maybe laser.”

“Sabers? Like
Star Wars?!
Mommy, that sounds scary,” said Brian.

“No honey,
LASER.
It's not scary. It just burns all the hair off with a scorchy light and you just have to wear special glasses and make sure to never, ever look at the light. Not scary at all!” Gardner said, as she boarded her home elliptical machine and Brian settled into the chair and snack tray he sets up during her lengthy sessions.

“But Mommy, I thought you said that God loves all of us just the way we are!” said Brian. “Yeah right, God's never seen this giant flat ass of mine,” Judi muttered.

“What, Mommy?” asked Brian.

“Nothing honey, you're right. God does love us just the way we are. But other people aren't nice like God is,” she said breathlessly, as she increased the resistance on the elliptical. “You know when you see those other mommies at school, when they're guest reader or volunteering at the library, how good they look?”

“Mommies are beautiful, all mommies, but you're the most beautifullest in the whole world,” said Brian.

“Well, I will be, after I get something called dermabrasion,” Judi said, panting.

“What's that, Mommy?” Brian said.

“Oh, it's where they sand your yucky face off.” Brian looked terrified. “No, Mommy! Your face is my most favorite face!”

“Honey, it's OK, I'll still have my face. It will just be as soft as a baby's bottom.”

Brian started to cry. “I don't want your face to look like a butt! That's where poop comes from.” Judi tried calming him down but continued on the elliptical, saying, in short bursts, “Sweetie . . . I meant that . . . it will be super soft . . . you'll love it.”

Brian got up from his chair and tried to play with his mother's stomach while she was exercising.

“Soft like your fluffy tummy, Mommy? It's so warm and squidqy.” Judi paused the elliptical, got off, and appeared triumphant.

“You see? Out of the mouths of babes. I
knew
I was fat. Kids don't lie to you about that stuff—they tell it just like it is.” She ruffled Brian's hair. “I'm so glad I have him around to keep me honest. Brian, who's the best little man in the world? You are! Someday I know you'll meet a wonderful, beautiful girl who'll love you exactly like you are, just like your Mommy does.”

Mom Literally Dragged
Back to Suburbs

Suburgatory, USA—After two days of traipsing around Manhattan reliving her carefree single-girl days, an area mother had to be literally dragged back to the suburbs.

“Ma'am. It's time,” said New York City police officer Peter Clark. “
Noooo!!!!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!
Get your hands off me!” wailed a belligerent Trink Giroux as Officer Clark heaved her into the back of the car. “Watch your head getting into the cruiser, ma'am! Did you just bite me?”

Giroux was reported missing by her husband one night ago. She joins hundreds of mothers in recent months who have fled their homes and responsibilities, leaving their husbands utterly unprepared to handle their children's hygiene, homework, and food requirements.

“Fucking God. That was like right out of
The Sopranos
when they took Adriana for a ‘drive' in the country,” said Officer Clark, shaking his head in contempt and looking for teeth marks in his hand. “She was fighting it hard, all right, real hard.”

Giroux was picked up while trying to pose as a twenty-something hipster at a Lower East Side club, which she
thought
was Tonic. But Tonic has closed since she lived there. A new club is in its place, and after noting her dowdy attire, dated haircut, and weary, medicated expression, the actual twenty-something hipster manning the door immediately notified police that there was an escaped mom inside the establishment. “What are you saying to me?” she kept asking the young man. “What? I don't get what you're saying.” It appeared that he was speaking mostly in the unaffected style of Mumblecore movies, a trend Giroux has utterly missed because of parenthood. She found the hipster's speech patterns incomprehensible, which enraged her further.