I have, once again, been avoiding Facebook and WordPress. My blog has been neglected for over a month. Truthfully, I thought it was because I was just too busy to update my status or blog about my elk hunting or first 5K or online Christmas shopping, etc. But then Good Morning American slapped the obvious in my face. I have had some anger issue lately. I have been a snit on Facebook, sick of other people’s mundane and retarded posts. I have literally had to not log-in to keep my sanity. I have been sitting on my fingers to keep from typing hideous, honest comments on other people’s status’. But today, just this moment, I realized why. The Muppets are back. I have HUGE Muppet issues.
Let me take you back to my childhood. I was not a beautiful child. I was tall for my age (no, really, I was) I had long lanky legs (stop laughing, I did). I had freckles that multipled like a bad rash. I had a big nose, too big for my round face. I was made fun of (and all you people who made fun of me; you know who you are- go sit on your big toe and wiggle it). I was so brutally mocked that I even tried to make my nose smaller. I would pinch it and suck in the air and hold my breath; desperatly hoping my version of plastic surgery was working. Some days I could see the “pig nose” shrinking, I was hopeful.
About 3rd grade little girls can become little bitches. That was also about the time The Muppets had a big movie. I think it was The Muppets Take Manhatten. I actually liked the Muppets. Miss Piggy and her glitzy dresses and sassy attitude. I had a Miss Piggy Doll. Her body was soft like a baby doll and her face was plastic, snout and all. I had the book, too. My mom ordered me the Scholastic version of the movie to book. It was awesome, bright pages filled with glossy illustrations of the movie. Miss Piggy rocked, she was the heroine. Until she became my biggest enemy.
My at-home-nose-pinching-nose-surgery was going well. Lemon juice on the freckles was also producing some hopeful results. And then BAM: someone called me Miss Piggy. What an original name, right!? So creative. But it did the trick. The name stuck. Miss Piggy. Kids are cruel and some of them I still loathe! No really, I do. I still won’t be Facebook friends to this day. Issues? You think? Some people just don’t outgrow the 3rd Grade. You know who you are. Anyway, kids suck. Mean kids with unhappy homes with fathers that cheat on the mothers and mothers that pop pills or drink too much; this creates insecure little assholes that can only feel good about themselves by preying on other kids. (Truthfully, when a kid has been mean to my 6 year old daughter and she tells me: I usually know the home life of the kid and tell her: “Little Johnny is sad because his Mommy ran away. He is being mean right now, just ignore him.” I really do this. It’s called truth and maybe by me telling Eryn that kids are mean because they are sad will make her more apt to just walk away with her feelings in tact. Just because some kids’ Mom is a whore doesn’t make it alright for that kid to be a dick, but I get it. Parents are usually the ones breeding the bully into the own kids.) OK, onto Miss Piggy…
My beloved Miss Piggy doll got a Sharpie to the face. Looking back it was a total cry for help. Miss Piggy was graffiti-ed, my projections of rage onto the once adored face. I ripped her dress apart and trashed the doll. The book . . . no page was left un-shredded. I was 8 years old. The name calling didn’t stop until I was in high school. WHy? Those 3rd Grade bitches multiply and get meaner as hormones kick in. They run like a pack of wolves. But you know what! With age, like wolves, they lose their power. They get mange and get ugly and by college they aren’t so cool any more. They lose their territory and marry men like their own filanering dads and continue the cycle. But, the cycle of the victim also continues. In my case I rose from the rubble of my broken feelings by college and found beauty in the mirror, nose and all. And not too long after that, I found my prince charming. Kermit? Sure, why not! Because Miss Piggy really is a bad ass Muppet and Kermit is cute as hell.
So, will I take my girls to see The Muppets this Holiday Season? Probably. I will sit in a cushy theatre seat and remember all the heartbreak I went through with Miss Piggy. But I will also be aware that Eryn is approaching that akward Muppet age herself. And I can’t, for the life of me, find one thing anyone could pick out on her to be mean about. Alas, Kids are evil. And every kid has a Muppet in their closet . . . what’s yours?
