This morning I hobbled into the kitchen to punch the coffee pot. I noticed a paper plate on the counter containing the following message:
I just wanted to let you know that last night I spotted mommy walking around in the kitchen. And guess where her crutches were? In the bedroom. SHE WAS LIMPING AROUND WITHOUT HER CRUTCHES.
Yes, it’s true. Sometimes I take my legs out for a test drive. In the dead of night when no one is around to tattle on me. I had no idea that people are laying in wait ready to catch me in the act. And the experiment didn’t go all that well, anyway. When I attempt to walk without the aid of crutches, I walk a good deal like Barbie does in Toy Story 3. But without the groovy leg warmers.
I started dance classes this week. Dance class is code for Physical Therapy. Through all of the mind numbing pain, I heard Daryl (my dance instructor) say, “We have a lot of work to do,” rather solemnly.
So, I thought I’d step up my game by going to the gym today. I figured that the change of scenery would do me good, and the kids would be well taken care of in the Kid Fit area. When I first walked in, I thought I was having a hot flash. Turns out the air conditioner was non-functioning.
The thought of hobbling back out to the car did not appeal to me, so I pressed on and did my P.T. exercises upstairs. Where it was extra toasty. My mood must have been affected by all the heat, because the bickering from my 3 spawn in the back of the van on the way home was more than I could take.
So I yelled at them. Because really good effective parenting always begins with a hormonally charged and overheated mother yelling at her children when they are all trapped in a van.
It worked, because there was peace in my valley for the remainder of the ride home. And in the spirit of full disclosure, I did ask for forgiveness from my children before we reached our driveway.
After dinner, we were discussing the events of the day, and Jensen told his father that mommy yelled in the van.
Fiddledaddy: “Mommy yelled at you?”
Jensen: “Yes. Really loud.”
Fiddledaddy: “Then what happened?”
Jensen: “Her head exploded.”
Not long after that Fiddledaddy left for Publix to procure another bottle of ChocoVine for the bedraggled mommy.
Come to mama.
Have a wonderfully peaceful and air conditioned 4th of July weekend everyone!