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Date archive for: November 2012

Parental Kissing: Ewww

There are certain things a woman likes to hear after she kisses a man on the mouth: “Wow … please … more” and “Sweet cheeses, I’m in love” and “You taste like Wildlicious Pop-Tarts.”

But even “What do you think you’re doing, you trollop?” and “That is a LOT of saliva” would be preferable to what I hear after I kiss my husband: “Ewwww.”

The aspersion comes not from my spouse but from our 7-year-old son, an undersized-and-outspoken Puritan who finds even the chastest of our amorous embraces repugnant. Mind you, this child is not easily made queasy. He mixes fruit punch with Dr. Pepper and spoons applesauce onto his chicken nuggets, and I’ve seen the kid blithely pluck a strangled, desiccated lizard from a soccer net with a monkey wrench. Yet he finds nothing so disgusting as my lips touching his dad’s.

“Yuck.” “Nasty.” “Not again. Seriously? Come on!” It’s tough not to take that personally. I mean, why the horror? “Because the sound is gross,” he says.

Unfair! Sometimes we’re completely, no-slurping silent, I swear. He still cringes. “It just makes me … (sigh) … It’s just gross!”

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Advice for Others Named Starshine

This is an important public service announcement for everyone out there named Starshine. (And for the rest of you, who think it’s unlikely there are others named Starshine, I would argue it’s just as unlikely that I’m able to spell Starshine considering the hallucinogens my parents consumed before and perhaps during my conception, so I’m a bettin’ girl.)

As we Starshines know, our unusual name is rife with perks. For example, people are often too embarrassed to say Starshine out loud, so they avoid talking to us entirely, which can be really lovely. And it’s always fun to introduce ourselves to old people, who inevitably try to recall the abominable lyrics to the song “Good Morning Starshine”: “Is it ‘glibby glup gloopy’ … or ‘gliddy glop glooby’?” Plus, we enjoy almost mainstream-moniker status when compared to Frank Zappa’s kids, Moon Unit, Dweezil, and Diva Thin Muffin; at least Starshine is, like, a thing.

Still, there’s a downside to our name, and I think you all know what I’m talking about. Look, I’m sure every name has its own cross to bear. You think it’s easy for guys called Romeo and Jesus? And let’s all say a little prayer for girls named Britney or Lindsay, and born after, say, 1998.

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