My husband left me today. No, don’t freak. The poor bastard is coming back…or else! No, he actually had a sales trip. He had to drive three hours to a boring town and stay in a shitty hotel after trying to hock shit to a bunch of people who normally buy the type of shit he is trying hock. He really tried to make it sound…well…shitty. But in my head I heard:
“Baby… I’m leaving your ass with the kids to go spend the night in a quiet place where I can watch whatever the French toast I want on television, walk barefooted in the middle of the night without cursing at some Legos, and get to sleep for a whole lot of hours…straight…in a row…uninterrupted. But don’t worry, Baby. This trip is totally going to blow.”
Yeah, sounds rough. So today was my first entire day and night with my kids and no help. No reinforcements. No person to tag or to call time after I tap out. Nope, just me and my boys. And they smelled blood. They knew I was alone…desperate…vulnerable. And they seriously ran my ass ragged.
So while I was driving in my car listening to one child cry and another child complain about the other child crying, I had this beautiful little fantasy. And it did not involve a Ryan Gosling meme. No, I had a dream about pulling all of the little tricks of childhood that my kids do to me on them what I get older.
And I got giddy. This is what I thought.
Picture it. America 2068. Me. Really freaking old. My kids. Not so freaking old and responsible for taking me to a doctor’s appointment…and for my crunchier readers we will call this a holistic doctor of the future. And this is the shit that I will pull.
Oh, this will be good!
1. I will begin by waking up really early and screaming bloody hell until somebody gets me a damn peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When they bring it to me, I will scowl at the sight of crust. And just as my son walks away to take care of one of his basic needs, like taking a morning pee, I will loudly exclaim that I have no beverage. I will make certain that he knows that I cannot wait to have a drink, and I will of course send away the first beverage because it will definitely not be what I wanted. Just as he thinks he is about to void his bladder, I will spill the drink all over the damn place and claim that I am incapable of cleaning it. Oh, the morning of my dreams will start beautifully.
2. When it is time to get dressed, I shall resist. I shall then put on the oldest, smallest shirt that I own and throw an ever-loving-fit when my son suggests that it is too old and or small. I will tell him that he “never let’s me do nuthin” while stomping my old, arthritic feet. I will then poo poo the next several outfits he shows me until he agrees to let me wear my favorite shirt with a sweatshirt over it. However, my sleeves will get caught in the damn sweatshirt 5000 times which I will find hilarious but will ultimately cause my son to cry or swear.
3. I will refuse to pee before we leave the house.
4. I will bitch and moan about having to be in a car seat…because I will totally be in a rear facing car seat when I am old. After my son gets that 5 point harness locked around my wriggling body, I will then loudly announce that I have to pee.
5. The pee will be a false alarm. I will be old. Those things will happen.
6. As soon as a really good song comes on the radio, I am going to ask a bazillion questions about really random shit. Are there gray elephants in Denmark?
7. As soon as we get far enough from the house, I will become thirsty and have to pee. My sons will not be prepared for this as they spent their entire morning running around frantically wondering why life decided to shit in their organic Cheerios this morning and why they couldn’t have a nice mother in a coma. They will assume it is another false alarm.
8. It will not be a false alarm. Yep, I will totally go there.
9. My sons will try to find something to mask the odor, but nothing will work. The stench will be emblazoned in their nostrils till lunch. They will begin bitching at one another for not making me go before we left. They will then lose their whole attitude after realizing that nobody packed a change of clothes. I will beam as I watch my divide and conquer plan come to fruition.
10. We will turn back home…and just as we reach the drive way, late, down trodden and a complete freaking mess…I will loudly announce that it was just gas…and that I am still thirsty and now hungry too.
Ah, that will be the day.
