My parents, while they are really pretty decent in practically every way, didn't appreciate certain things and certain types of people. I won't tell you who or what (but for some reason it included water ballet, which.... really? Water ballet?).
I am fine with the things they were not fine with, which makes me wonderful while they are bigots. OBVIOUSLY.
Except there are things I don't like, too. My hang ups are just different from theirs.
I try really hard to be fair and balanced when I deal with things I don't like. When the kids ask for Lunchables, I explain that the food's been in plastic packaging a really long time and so it's not as delicious and there's hardly any of it anyway so they'd need two. I don't add "and our people don't eat Lunchables." Which we don't (but mostly because we're cheap).
I've asked Chris to stop calling the man down the street a Survivalist Rethuglican Knuckledragger. This is because he's a pretty big dude and I'm scared of him, but also because I would be appalled to hear the kids calling anyone that.
When Studley came home from school singing a Pantera song I did not have him transferred to another classroom, as tempting as it may have been.
See? Fair and balanced.
So now Sugarplum (who studies ballet! how civilized!) is in a recital this weekend. She got to watch the other classes during the dress rehearsal and came home out of her mind with excitement.
"You would love it, mommy! They had great costumes and fun music and it's called musical theater!"
Please dear God in heaven, no.