My children went back to school a few weeks ago. I had been counting down the nanoseconds for this day since the end of June. In fact, when I took them back-to-school shopping the week prior I actually said, “Stop licking each other” void of any emotion whatsoever. We took a bunch of trips, went to the pool, museums, parks, blah blah blah… So imagine my surprise when my my brain fucking betrayed me and I started crying. Like hard. The combination of not being needed any more and no longer having a viable excuse for having a dirty house was suddenly overwhelming.
In desperation, I volunteered to homeschool them knowing that I alone would shoulder the blame of screwing them up rather than their teachers. My daughter said, “No. Pull it together mom. I need socialization.” I am choosing to believe she is simply supremely confident rather than plotting to seek emancipation once she figures out how to wipe her own butt and contact an attorney. They kissed me and bolted off without looking back.
I stood there with tears pouring down my face while Mike’s eyes darted back and forth trying to formulate an escape route. I like crying in front of Mike. I am super powerful in my vulnerable state and can practice mind control over him. Lucky for him, I don’t cry that much, maybe like once or twice a year tops if someone I really like dies or something totally traumatic happens such as my children returning to their really nice suburban school. I rested my head on Mike’s chest while he kept looking at his watch, awkwardly petting my head. Every time he tried to pull away I squeezed him tighter.
Finally he wiggled free from my grip and bolted to his car. What a psycho right? I promptly sent him a text asking if he would come home and impregnate me at lunch. He didn’t reply. AAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNDDDDD THANK GOD FOR THAT because the next day I was like THIS.IS.AWESOME. I f’ing LOVE being alone. OMG. In fact, I am already stressing about not having my alone time over fall, winter and summer breaks. I am currently formulating a letter to the school district informing them that I spoke with their pediatrician and children actually do not need “time off” to acclimate to the changing of seasons. That is a big fat lie and I am on to them.
A couple days later my neighbor called and left a message for me: “Hiiiiiii Errrrrriiiiiiiiin- I am on my way over to Whole Foods and the wine store and wanted to see if you wanted anything. Also the pump your dad put in my water feature (synthetic ponds and waterfalls that rich people have placed in their yards to help lull them to sleep at night and reconnect with nature) stopped working and so I called the pump store because I know your dad is out of the country and they said a dead snake was probably tangled in the motor. Well, as you know, or maybe you don’t, I am simply terrrrrrrrrified of snakes and was wondering if you wouldn’t mind coming over and cleaning it out. Thank you! Bye Now!”
Um. Wtf. Fixing water features ain’t a family biz. Honestly, I don’t even know what my dad does for a living and I cannot even imagine what I would jack up if I was given a forklift and some boulders. I was laughing too hard to even call her back to tell her to fuck off. No offense Me, but you would be the absolute last person I would call if I needed to help involving a motor. Unfortunately this would be the neighbor I like especially after we took a Pilates class together the previous week and while I was bent over with my ass sticking way up in the air, she said, “You must do that a lot since you are so good at it!” And then we started laughing really hard and got yelled at.
I went over and reached my hand into her filthy, smelly pond water and sure as shit, pulled out a dead snake. My neighbor started screaming, ran inside, locked the doors (like snake ghosts can’t just float through walls) and watched me through her window. I flipped her off and threw away the snake along with the corpses of approximately 10,000 goldfish that she had nuked earlier in the week when she dropped a chlorine bomb on them. Neat. My cupcake baking neighbor was a serial killer and I had no f’ing idea. I wonder if Mike’s name is even Mike. Shudder.
I suppose people will be asking themselves years from now how I summoned the courage to do what I did. Truthfully, I think some people (me) are just born heros. If you will recall, I also accomplished the formidable task of allowing my children go back to school. I hope you all have a fabulous rest of the week. XO