My husband wonders why I roll my eyes, rub my beads (nope not catholic), pull out my prayer mat (not Muslim either), and growl under my breath each time he says he has to leave town. Well it is probably because every time he travels, we have some SNAFU go down in mommy town. One time it was the burglar alarm system going on the fritz in the middle of the night, sending 7 police cars along with police officers donning Billy sticks and drawn weapons to my humble abode. Well, THAT actually happened because I took an Ambien and went out in the garage naked for a coke thus setting off the alarm. Seems that I hit the panic mode by accident and just caused all kinds of trouble. I of course was none the wiser and no one else will be either until they invent a sleeping pill that will make you sleep, but not so deeply that a locomotive could tear through your house without your knowledge!
Another time it was the twins crashing into each other, at top speed causing a major black eye for the girl and a nice goose egg for the boy. A different trip it was the girl, who fell in the driveway, stood up looking like Carrie and ran towards me screaming. Blood makes me weak so the first thing I do is turn around and puke. She looks at me like, great! So THIS is the best you could do in the mommy department huh God, can I trade her in??? Yadda Yadda Yadda, and you get the picture. Something f**ked up happens when he leaves town.
This time the mommy wagon took the hit. Literally! I knocked out several appointments, picked up the twins, went to the bank and headed out of town for the beach. Not so fast! Really, it’s a good thing too because I had a transplant from the wrong side of the Mason Dixon line in front of me, driving my own personal nightmare, a mini-van! They gave signals, changed minds, changed lanes and at the last minute got out of mine, crossed two lanes of traffic and took a hard right into their freedom, they were gone! I look up and of course, traffic is stopped and I have nowhere to go but into the ass end of the Honda in front me. This pushed him into another Honda and him into another Honda all the while I am careening towards oncoming traffic, stopping a few short inches prior to it! One twin starts crying while the other says “mommy why did you scream and then say shit?” Guess which one this was?
I turn in my seat and begin to try to talk the twins down. I can see that they are not hurt (thank the Lord) and there is nothing else I can do until the police block traffic because I cannot get out of my side of the car without getting hit by an oncoming car in 5 0’clock traffic. I look at all the drivers of the cars I just greeked or caused to get greeked and they look like a pack of wild Indians looking for someone to scalp. Pissed, dazed and confused at best. One dude in particular looks like he would rather have been shot. He is rolling his eyes and shaking his head at me, like I did it all just for shits and giggles. I understand that this situation is less than ideal but I am a bit inconvenienced here to you asshole! The other two drivers are instantly concerned that my children are ok, very nice of them. Someone had obviously pulled them aside and taught them that the care and concern of others is mannerly and that asking are you ok will not cause them to get blamed for the accident. Doesn’t take a mental genius here to see that all of it is my fault but a little concern from this booger-eating son of a bitch would have been nice.
Police get there and all is going well. They lean in to ask my children how they are feeling and my daughter says, “ I am FINE, can you hurry up please because we are going to the beach!” My son says “GET ME OUT” Policeman looks at me and says, “You got a couple of live wires here don’t you?” I say, “Welcome to my world Sir” EMS and wrecker service arrive and my son is just pissed at all the noise and my daughter is less than impressed because of all the lights and attention. She tells me that all the noises and lights are just ridiculous and to many people are looking at her! She says she is embarrassed and just wants to go to the beach. If you want sympathy from THIS child??!!?!?! You need to look in the dictionary between shit and syphilis because she DOES NOT roll that way! She then asks the wrecker driver if he can step it up a bit and fix our car so we can go to the beach. He says he will try. She then tells him he better not leave without cleaning up all this mess. Then says to me, “mommy you have to help, because you made this mess.” Yep, I feel like a big ole queen size jerk off right now! Given the choice I think my daughter would side with the booger-eating son of a bitch right now than to side with me. She is viewing this whole situation as a giant pain in the ass! How can I be upset with this, she is cut from the same cloth as me, I am raising her and I am allergic to inconveniences, bullshit and drama so the apple that is her didn’t fall far from the tree. My son is in the back wondering if I am ok and if our car will be ok and if any of the people looking at us are hurt. He says, “mommy can I give you a hug, you look like you need one.” I hug them both and they crawl back in their car seats and pick up Cinderella and Thomas the Train and begin reading until my parents arrive to sweep them from this event. I envy that level of resiliency. I also understand for the first time that the reaction of my children is a direct result of my action. (This time it is working in my favor!!) The twins, I realize are with me in this accident, not because it was ideal but because I am at my best when they are with me. They have a job here to do and they are doing it! They are touching my heart and keeping me grounded by being who they are. The girl child is making me laugh! She is sarcastic and funny with that amazing command of the obvious that makes you feel like a dumb ass, but also amazes you at her intelligence. I know that having her means our family will need an attorney in it. We are just not sure if it will need to be an entertainment or criminal attorney! She is me in every situation. The boy child is keeping me sane and calm by talking to me in his sweet, confident voice and keeping constant eye contact with me. We are each other’s barometer. He is upset but he is the antithesis of obtrusive, and is the rock that every mommy needs. He is in fact what his father would be if he were here. But NOOOOO that lucky bastard is in Chicago. Love you darlin! Mean it, really I do!
Incident is cleaned up, victims are appeased with insurance information and we leave the scene of the crime and retreat to my parents house for the weekend for some much needed TLC and adult beverages, not to mention some serious doses of that really inquisitive primate, Curious George! Right now I would have sex with the man in the yellow hat and Huntley the dog just to have my husband here to take care of all this SHIT so I don’t have to. I mean damn when do I get to be the one with the good luck or that gets to cry about how bad my luck always is????
The 4 man Petri dish
The rental car is a Dodge Caliber. WTF? who names these things? Ford focus, what is the focus? To be a bigger safer car when it grows up? Chevy Aspire, Aspiring to not be a piece of shit? The smart car? Smart on gas mileage maybe, but not if you get hit by a pissed off old lady on a bicycle. You can’t drive that thing if the wind blows enough to move a flag. Enough said. Lets say the Dodge Caliber…is not the caliber of car any highbrow would be happy to be seen in. But no one is going to SEE me in it because A.) Being inside this damn thing is like being inside a Pringles can, its like it was built for midgets. I feel like Alice after falling down the rabbit hole. B.) I am going to make my husband drive it. It is so slow it should have a basket on the front grill. It looks like a suppository and sounds like a bumblebee. It also smells like it did a hard stint at a whorehouse and was then run through the drive thru of McDonalds and rubbed down with a few hundred filet of fish sandwiches. The steering wheel is sticky even after I have scrubbed it 5 times and even used Clorox. The seats feel like a maxi pad feels after you pull the adhesive tape off the bottom and sick it to a pair of pants. It aint moving or allowing for any comfort or give and take! The cup holders are sticky with some dull, cloudy substance that looks as if two nasty dudes sat in the back seat and aimed their manhood at it then fired away. Note: also see the filet of fish remark to imagine the smell again. Getting up to 45 mph in this thing feels and sounds like it is about to take off and land on the stamen of the closest flower. And to make it worse or the worst, the twins call it a van! I think they do this just to piss me off. The girl is not impressed and says it smells poopy and the boy who is unaffected by anything and will make the best out of everything just says its kinda cool but he really wants our car back. When I rented this little goody the rental car pusher tried for the first few minutes to make me feel pretty good about it. I told him to cut the crap, he wouldn’t be thrilled about driving it either and if he would zip it and stop going all peter pan on me, I would take it and have it detailed myself. He said, “really?” I said, “Yes but please, for god sake hose down the steering wheel and the gear shift because I have the immune system of a cancer patient and the last thing I need is another illness challenge!” He said, “deal!” After seeing it and asking if there was another car available he shows me one other option but tells me he can’t rent it to me BECAUSE IT HAS BUGS and the only other option is a Prius which is due back any moment. I ask what kind of bugs and he says you don’t want to know. Remembering the head crabs we just got over I agree. I think about waiting for the Prius but am tired so I decide not to give a shit about my carbon footprint, I take the Dodge suppository and head for home. The next morning I discover that my husband (who is now back in town) has put the car seats into the dodge while I was unavailable for consultation. Yes, he was successfully able to DODGE driving this rice rocket! Damn him.
Score- daddy 1, mommy 0
Score- daddy 1, mommy 0
I drive onto campus where the minimum household income is so f**king high that I won’t even insult it with a number here and the average car is a suburban. I think, no problem I can fly under the radar in this little dodge POS right? NOPE because I am spotted, the husband waves, and people know we had a wreck so I am forced to wave no less than 5 times! I turn and skid perfectly into my parking place and my son says, “wow mommy how did you do that so well?” Bless his innocent, little heart, he has no idea that it was because this little Fred Flintstone f**ker is so small HE could turn in on a dime and that it is so slow it may as well run on batteries. We all get out and are walking away from it and they tell me, “Mommy, WE want to walk up ALONE, WITHOUT you. “You stay here, with the van OK?”
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