"What?" you ask, spewing whatever it is you've just taken a sip.
It began over the choice of a Halloween costume.
Have you seen them recently?
When I was a kid, I draped a bath towel around my neck and told everybody I was Superman. This resulted in many compliments and tons of candy.
Once I found an old wig and a trench coat and transformed myself into "Tiny Tim" ... no one complimented me and I didn't get much candy.
It's not that way anymore!
The right Halloween costume is serious stuff and planning begins weeks in advance.
Last year, Sarah was Cat Woman in a tight fitting silky skin suit and a mask. Let you tell you ... the moaning that took place later that night downed out everything the Cat Lady and her feral collection next door has to offer.
Sarah also got shitloads of candy, twenty-two business cards, phone numbers written on paper napkins all thrown into bag made soggy by salivating fathers ... and mothers ... tossing things her way.
Her girls dressed accordingly.
Planning has begun for this year and one of the initial comments made was, "That costume will make you look like a slut. Let your grandmother make you one ... out of wool."
Of course this made me laugh like crazy and wanting to be a good influence, I've offered sound advice.
"Look," I said to the crushed child, "history is full of great sluts. There wouldn't be a Bible if it weren't for the sluts in them. Just tell them you're going to be a Biblical slut. Bathsheba for example. Or Rachel ... if you want to step out of the Bible into other religions you can start with Aphrodite ... if you want great historical sluts you can be Catherine the Great, Coco Channel, Madonna or Bill Clinton."
She stopped crying beginning to understand for the first time the preponderance of great sluts who've made contributions to history.
The great theologian Larkin Rossitter, at the Jefferson Street Baptist Chapel when I was employed as the "Professional Christian" explained ... "Look everyone is a whore. The question is whose you're pimp?"
We thought this a brilliant analogy ... which could be part of the reason I became an "Unprofessional Christian."
Regardless, I think it's harder to be a kid these days than when I was young. Today they control the universe through the Internet by the age of five. By 11 or 12, they're navigating the sexual landscape. By the time they're 14, they have defined their identities for life.
I'd rather work through these challenges with them than define the rules. The truth of the matter is we make our own rules anyway. They're made by dictatorial rule or in partnership. I prefer the latter.
When she got out of the car this morning, after spying her friends and immediately screaming, "HEY! Stop the car now! Those are my friends. Please, Please, Please, Please, Please ..."
So I did and she's immediately surrounded by love at that age ... boys and girls displaying affection for one another, obviously looking forward to the day ... the weekend ... Halloween.
"HEY!" I yell and she turns to look with an Angelic beautiful face, "Have slutty weekend."
And she laughs and dives into her friends which is what matters most to any kid.
Driving home, I reflect on last night when she, Sarah and I sat in the living room, flipping channels and talking. Making plans as partners do.
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An eccentric life dotted with eclectic characters pop from the pages of award winning author Micheal Elliott’s newest book Sandy Bottoms & Duct Taped Hearts. His musings immerse you in a world of headshaking wonder, gut wrenching laughter, heart touched tenderness and empathetic tears.
Order your copy now at http://www.meellc.com/wordpress/newbook/
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