Boys Like to Get Dirty!
Our friend Tony came over the other day to clean our windows before the Realtors came to preview the house we didn’t want to sell.
It was one of our first beautiful mornings, where the temperature hit the 60s before 9am, and I sat down to face the large stack of bills sitting ominously on my desk.
Glancing outside my window I saw two buck naked swamp monsters flash by. I should go supervise, I thought to myself with an addendum of, being a mother is an incredibly difficult job where we are in a constant state of dealing with an incomprehensible amount of overload and I need to remain sitting.
Unable to continue to concentrate, I raced to get my camera and felt my toes sink into something soft, smooshy and warm. “Shiiiittttt,” I screamed, with Tony as my witness.
“Welcome to my life, I said to Tony who had caught on film the monsters running around. He replied, “Yeah, that’s why I’m not getting a dog, but there is nothing like seeing children completely free at play, and by the way what radio station are we listening to?” I told him, “That music is coming from my iPod, which means that you are also inside my head right now,” and he admitted that he liked the mix which is on the extreme side of eclectic ranging from Pearl Jam to Sidney Bechet.
This house showing thing is no picnic and one thing I am most certain of is that realtors enjoy toying with people by doing things like scheduling a showing the day before the Open House and not showing up. I really want to know what goes behind the logic of “forgetting to cancel”. Are they just thinking to themselves, “She’s a mom, she is always cleaning anyway,” and my retort is a huge NOT!!!!! Cleaning is a complete waste of time when you have children and puppies and I would prefer to be doing about a thousand other things, thank you very much you inconsiderate breed of worthless earthworms. I think I’ll send a fart in your general direction! Of course I’m not talking about all?realtors. Some of my best friends are realtors.
I woke up early to let Muki do her business, get the kids lunch together and clean the house and I was feeling good that I had everything under control until Tucker said, Uh Oh Mommy, and pointed, and the shit went down. Muki had drank too much water from our creek and had deposited wet, smelly squirts everywhere. Gagging, I began attempting to pull the squirt out of the fringe of the carpet and scraping up the mess with a metal spatula while screaming, Waaaaaadddddddeeeee. I neeeeeeed you this morning. Please don’t leave me. And, Booooyyyyyyyyssss, make your own breakfast and lunch this morning, which you should be doing anyway at this point in your livessssss as I am not your frickin’ servant. This goes for you too Hootie-Hoo, and I heard a little reply, “but I don’t know how to make my own lunch.”
As I cleaned up I asked Baddy to get me a bucket and he looked blankly at me asking, “What kind of bucket?” “…. I certainly don’t need a beach bucket or a bucket to throw up in. I need a goddamn bucket to mop the floor with,” that did not go over very well.
I threw lemon oil on the floor and mopped it up as quickly as I could, opened all of the windows and herded the kids into the car, still on schedule, until humbly, I called for Baddy, “ummmm, hi. It’s me. Welll, life can be sooo funny sometimes,” and he laughed at my levity until I told him that the car wouldn’t start and I needed rescuing. Youre shittin’ me, he remarked, and I mentioned that shit seemed to be the theme of the morning.
Finally, we got on the road and as we passed our resident fox with her chocolate pawed kits, I mentioned that this was a good example of how sometimes you just have to let go of the plan and be good about switching tracks and not behave as I just did. The boys agreed whole heartedly. Suddenly a deer bounded across the road directly in front of us. “See,”I said, our luck is turning. If it were a really bad day we would have hit that deer…” Looking for something to know on wood in Vini-Man, where was that trail of wood that was always blanketing the floor? Thumper cheerfully stated, “I feel like we are Texans because, for some reason, I feel that they have bad luck.” ???
Listening to the signs, I am scheduling an appointment with a financial adviser to see if there is any way that we can do some creative financing to hold on to the house for just a bit longer and in the meantime I think that a night out on the town with Baddy is in tall order.