What is a Kardashian?

I will readily admit that we have too many mind-numbing magazines cluttering up the house. Never mind that they were free as a result of a few about-to-expire leftover airline miles.  We probably pay for it in other ways, such as lost, irreplaceable brain cells that are now taken up with who looked better in what dress, and how the stars buy cereal, milk and eggs just like we do.  Never mind that I take them into work when we are done with them, so that they can clutter up our lunchroom and my coworkers' minds, and perpetuating the paparazzi problem that those poor, hounded celebrities have.  Never mind all of those things, because every now and then, we get some memorable dinner conversations as a result.

Snorkelers:  they look suspiciously like us!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cardassian 

Like one night as we were enjoying a nice family dinner (read: it was so loud you could barely finish a thought), when my son asked, "What is a Kardashian? Isn't that like a Star Trek character or something?"  I honestly didn't know what to say, because I was not sure what a Kardashian was.  I knew for sure they were not Cardassians, although their quest to take over the entertainment empire could certainly be compared to that of the Cardassian regime.  I knew that Kardashians, like Cardassians, wear a lot of makeup, at least for TV cameras.  They also both display a lot of prominent body parts, like neck ridges or cleavage, but other than that, I really wasn't sure. I guess they both have entertainment value? What I could say for certain was that, yet again, Michael had asked me a question that I had a difficult time answering. Generally, I can come up with something authoritative enough so that it's plausible, but in this case, not so much.  I did a little research, meaning that I tried to watch one of the Kardashian shows.  Still, nothing. And quite frankly,  I would have been much better off with Star Trek.  Any Star Trek.

But fast forward a week or two later, to the middle of a rousing game of family charades. My son was halfway bent over, waggling his bottom at us, and gesturing towards it wildly. Any number of answers should have been correct, given that as a 9 year old boy, butts, toots, poop, and all things scatological comprise about 90% of his comedy material.  Instead, and I'm not sure how I feel about this, he exasperatedly yelled, "I'm a Kardashian! Jeez, can't you tell by my big butt?" Sigh.  There must be a better way to spend those leftover miles.

That's uncanny, because I usually wear something exactly like this
when I go bowling too!  They ARE just like us!
http://ypointbeauty.blogspot.com/2010/10/kim-kardashianim-not-drinker-and-when.html 

What Daddy and Cats Have in Common

I recommend taking your own tiger and monkey to the zoo,
in case the ones that live there permanently are not being entertaining.

The twins are reaching that age where it is possible to have full conversations with them. Pair their budding conversation skills with their emerging two year-old logic and you get gems like this:

Julia: Kitty cat have whiskas?
Mommy: Yes, kitty cats have whiskers. Do snakes have whiskers?
Both: Nooooooooo!  (This is obviously a silly statement that Mommy has made.)
Mommy: But doggies have whiskers.
Matthew (agrees): Doggie have whiska.
Mommy:  Do you know who else has whiskers? Daddy has whiskers in his beard!
(long pause as their gears turn, and they absorb what I have said.)
Matthew (uncertain): Daddy... is... a... kitty cat?
Mommy: No, Daddy is not a kitty cat!  But Daddy has whiskers!
Matthew (more sure of himself than he has ever been): Daddy is a kitty cat.

http://www.dansdata.com/kitten.htm 

I almost explain to them that if Daddy had been born with the flexibility of the cat, he would be able to clean his own genitals with his tongue.  Given the implications of having this lauded ability, I have serious doubts  that the twins would ever have been born.  Or any of our children, for that matter. I could be wrong.

Big kitty cats have whiskers, too.