I may quite possibly have lost my mind. ‘Diva Speaks’ is written by none other than my Diva girl.
I’m not sure if I get major Cool Mom points for this, or go down in flames for being an indulgent parent, lose all my blog followers and get mocked online for the rest of my existence, but, here goes…
Being the Offspring Of an Imp:
There are certain things that ‘normal’ kids, (whomever those boring people may be), never get to say. “My mother is an Imp!” is one of them.
Another one that they never get to – or have to – say, is “My name is Diva.”
Okay, so for a bit of a history lesson, I got that name when I was about eight. Who has heard of an eight year old girl that was not a diva? Throw in being pulled out of school that year for homeschooling, because of bullying issues, and you’ve just bought a one-way ticket to Downtown Dramaville.
So, skip ahead seven years, and the name has still stuck. I’m no longer a ‘Diva’, and you can’t make me go near a drama throw-down if you paid me. But do you think that my Impish mother is willing to change my name? (Note from Imp: She says this, complete with folded arms and a foot stomp)
“I can’t do that, no one would know who you are!”
“That’s why you’d tell them, you’re very good at telling people things,”
“But you’re still my little Diva-girl!”
“No. I’m not.”
(Yes, yes she is. Forever and for always)
So, as you can see, I’m not making any headway with that particular endeavour. I’ve tried begging, bribing, pleading, demanding, then promptly veered back to begging when I got the Mom look. You know the one. The one that says ‘Back that up or you’ll be moved out before you’re allowed outside of this house.’
Look at the rest of my family’s names. Wolf, Tazzie, Princess, etc. And I’m the one who gets stuck with a horrible one like Diva? Why can’t we have a theme going on? Nine year old is Tazzie, so why can’t I be Bugs? Heck, I’d even accept Wyle E. Cyote at this point!
Okay, I’ll admit, being ‘Diva’ isn’t all that bad. I’ve decided that it’s a reference to one of my favourite shows, which I will call refer to as the Zebra Queen (and it is not an animated lion movie, you silly parent readers!), where one of the best villains ever to cross the screen is named Diva. So in that regards, yes, I will accept being called Diva.
However, my mom doesn’t agree with that. No being an evil villain for me, even though I did recently draw on Tazzie’s face when he was sleeping… they were washable face colouring crayons! And Mom thought it was funny. Tazzie… not so much… I’ve decided to hide my face crayons under my bed with IDunno standing guard, because Tazzie gets up hours before I deem it an acceptable hour to be alive.
Does every daughter of a homeschool blogger get stuck with horrible nicknames? No, wait, the seven year old is Princess. Dang it. So I’m just a special case? Can someone tell me how to become one of those boring normal people that don’t get to say that their mother’s an Imp? I bet they have nice, respectable names, like Puppy Puke, or Cow Fart, or even Bunny Buns!
Well, I guess I’ll just go off and barrage my mother with a hail of Begging Bullets. And get shot down again.
So if I can’t have my name changed… how’s that Katana looking?