Heard in the other room:
Henry [knowing a sucker is born every minute]: Give me your arm. I promise I won’t kiss it.
Ed: AEIIIIIIIIIIIIII!
Henry [proudly]: That’s an indian sunburn.
Ed [running to me]: Mommy! Henry twisted my arm!
Me: Yes, that’s called an indian burn.
Ed: What’s an indian burn?
Me [banging head on wall]: What he did to your arm.
—
Somehow I’ve managed to raise the second coming of the Three Stooges. Woop! Woop!
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I have had many of those circular conversations myself. Add or subtract the unintentional racism on any given day…
manager mom's latest post: Saving The Drama For Her Mama
LOL!
We used to call them Chinese Burns – I don’t expect that’s any better?
Annie’s latest post: I can be a Good Mother Without Reality TV
In elementary school I was known as the girl who could not be Indian Burned. I told everyone it was because my great grandmother was Cherokee, but I'm sure that's not really why… it just didn't hurt…
I'm so friggin' gangster.
Maria's latest post: Gimmie Gimmie
What's up with all the racial slurs we had when we were kids? Remember "Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at these!" We sure didn't know what the hell we were talking about.
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