Decisions, Decisions...

I just can't decide what to write about today.

Should I write about the new bike lanes in Rabat, which aren't in fact new at all? It's an already too small car lane, just cut in half making it almost unusable. Except that cars still use it.  And so do mopeds.  In fact, now with even more swearing in and out of lanes, it's even  more dangerous on the roads than before they made a bike lanes.   So, from now on I'm calling it the hamar lane.  Which means donkey in Darija. And while donkey carts also use that lane, it's also slang for dumbass.

Or should I write about how freakin' hot it is in Rabat and that I'm dressed inappropriately by Morocco's conservative standards today by wearing a miniskirt and I don't even care. But that's really only because I'm not going out today and I'm hanging with all Americans and Europeans, so it really doesn't matter what I wear. And for the Europeans I could even go topless and they wouldn't care.

Maybe I could confess that I'm a serial killer and I brutally murder at least 3 a day. Sometimes I get them when they least expect it, but usually they're already laying on their backs and I merely have to whack them with a shoe. Oh, does anyone know why cockroaches lay on their backs before they die?  One of the kids asked last night at dinner when we saw yet another cockroach.  At least it wasn't dinner.

Then there's that story from right before Christmas when I went to the toy store to get a last minute gift and they were blaring the most offensively inappropriate gangsta rap I've ever heard.  In English of course.  But, I think I was the only person in the store that actually knew that and got how ironic it was. Especially considering Arabic songs are about the virtues one should posses, not the virtues of um, other things that may start with a p.  (And I would let you fill in the blank and everything on that post.)

Or I could tell you how my kids saved up enough allowance to buy themselves ipod touches. Which I thought was a really great lesson in saving their money to obtain a goal.  That was of course before they got them. Now my goal is for them to break them so I can stop listening to them whine incessantsly about the limits we've put on their use and what aps they want.  I would also be ok with them losing them.  It's their money after all.  And at the end of the post, I'd ask you if I'm the only mother who thinks these subversive thoughts. And I'm not right?

Speaking of which, one of my kids mentioned how our time in Morocco has just flown by and he can't believe it's over. Now this is the kid who gave me hell all day,  every day for two years about how he hated Morocco. And I knew this day of complete revelation and appreciation would come, but I didn't think it would come for at least a year.  But, instead of being elated about this, I fantasized about karate chopping him. Or was it a ninja kicks? No, I think it was ninja stars. I think I said, "Wow, that really surprises me".  Containing all my inner rage.  Or at least I think that's all I said.  And I hope I contained my rage. And then I'd plea, please tell me I'm not the only mom who throws ninja stars in my fantasies.  Am I?

But since I can't decide what to write about, I've decided I'm not going to write today.  But I might tan my legs.