Have a Super-lative weekend!

Not very many things annoy me.


Really.


Well, OK, you had me: My kids’ whinging do sap the absolute life out of me; I’ll admit that. But otherwise, I’m fairly tolerant. I throw my head back and laugh in the face of annoyance when my toothpaste tube gets squished in the middle as opposed to my preferred end; I close both eyes to bathroom floors littered with hairs -- lots of it – left behind by the hubs (who, I suspect, has direct lineage to Neanderthal man); I’ve even appeared gracious to visitors trudging on my brazilian hardwood floors in muddy or dusty shoes, beaming in my squinty-eyed Asian demeanour and fighting back the voices chanting, “Kill! Kill! Kill!” in the deep recesses of my stone cold heart.


But when people use superlatives, especially, not one but 3 of them in one breath, my skin starts to twitch involuntarily; my eyes roll back into my head the way Nancy’s did in ‘The Exorcist’ and then my mind switches off perhaps in a desperate attempt to protect itself from self-destructing.


Yesterday, at Aidan’s kindergarten orientation, the school principal managed to use the word “great” to describe the “great elementary school”, that was a “great place for your kids” and that we, parents, will be in “great hands” -- all in one sentence. I was trying really hard not to barf into my own boredom. I wasn’t sure if she knew that she wasn’t doing her school any justice from that poorly thought-out assurance to us, parents.


Not that I doubt her testimony because I am truly fond of this particular elementary public school that works more like a well-oiled private school. My kids have had a few dedicated teachers, and maybe one that was way too loopy to preside over space-cadets like Sean but for all intents and purposes, my kids enjoy school so it must be evident of an enabling and nurturing environment. My only grief is that the cafeteria food could be better but this is America, and pizzas and greasy chicken Frankenstein-nuggets are staples just as carbohydrate-laden but protein-lacking noodles and white rice are in Asia.


But it is so disappointing when the school principal – one of whom you would think would be eloquent enough from having to perform numerous speeches, ad nauseum, in front of glaze-eyed parents and teachers --  is only capable of uttering an all-encompassing “great” to garner our attention and buy our approval? I was more upset that she did not think of better ways of substantiating how truly well this school functioned, or how (most) of her staff knew ways to bring the best out from the children and hence kids, like mine, will skip off to school -- like kids in the style of 1950s clean-cut movies -- eager to learn, see their friends and teachers.


You’d think that in a country like America, superlatives would immediately send people into a catatonic stupor and no one would pay any attention to them.


“How are you today?”


“I’m great!”


How was the movie?”


“It was really great!”


“Are these 4, all your children? How awesome is that?” (really? I get an 'awesome' just by the sheer fact that my eggs are very receptive to boy swimmers? I'm liking superlatives!)


Anyway, it is the weekend. We are off to the “happiest place on earth” claims Disney, for 2 whole weeks. I’m guaranteed a great trip. I leave my family members pictures of the kids since they wouldn’t be hearing from them for a while.


How awesome am I?

Note: Thanks to my witty hubs, I've changed my original title to the more pointed current heading, as he'd suggested. For this contribution, I will eat humble pie and forgive him for shedding like a cat though lacking the licking ability of one.