On not leaving well enough afreakinglone

Okay, so this is - It's - I really can't describe - GAAAAAH!

Ahem.

Okay, so some people won't take "Shut your stupid face, you're an idiot" for an answer. Gloriously smacked down by the Gwinnett County School Board in her attempt to clear the school libraries of Harry Potter books (none of which she's actually read), Loganville mother Laura Mallory has stomped her foot, screwed up her face, and taken her case to the state Board of Education. Her letter requesting an appeal was received by the school board late last Friday, and Gwinnett County had ten days after that to forward it on to state authorities. District spokeswoman Sloan Roach said she didn't know when the state would be taking up the issue. She didn't add, "or whether they'll send a guy with a Wiffle bat to beat her down for wasting their freaking time already," but you know she was thinking it.

When I mentioned this whole mes to my mother, she said, "It would be really nice if people would raise their children as they see fit and tell them not to read those mean, nasty, evil books, and leave other parents to raise their children and let them read those mean, nasty, evil books." To that, I say, nyeah. We live in a world where the FCC hands out fines for profanity on shows that a) kids shouldn't be watching anyway b) that are shown when kids should be in bed anyway, because God forbid you should actually parent your child instead of using the TV as a handy, dandy babysitter. We live in a world where it's easier to raise your kid in a plastic bubble than to actually raise a strong, smart human being who can face down vice and temptation and not actually freaking deal with it instead of collapsing into a puddle and crying for Mommy to make it go away.

Raise your freaking kids, parents! If you don't want your kid exposed to something, you do something about it. Watch your kid. Teach him. Guide him through life. Don't expect the world to get all soft and squishy just because little Tommy there never learned to grow a freaking spine.

My mom likes to tell the story of a friend of hers who was absolutely meticulous in her housekeeping, verging on OCD, really. She sprayed, scalded or otherwise disinfected every single surface that her toddler came in contact with, to save the little dear from getting germs on him. Well, one day, they're at a playdate at the park, and a fly - just a regular old housefly - lands on Junior's lip. And Junior ends up with an abscess on his lip the size of Kansas. Why? Because for all of her desire to keep the tyke safe and protected, all she did was leave him unprepared for a world that doesn't smell like Lysol.