The Sucker Fish
After turning in a 1,600-word business story Friday, all my creativity was drained out of me. That would present a challenge when being a mom for the rest of the day.
How would I come up with a whopper when Johnny, 6, asked, "Why doesn't magic happen when I say abracadabra?"
How could I concoct evil plans when playing Joker to 4-year-old Richie's Batman.
What new special treat would I give J.J. since he's getting tired of frozen peas, or Dippin' Dots, as we call them around here?
I had to call in reinforcement.
"Why don't you ask Nicholas and Ryan over to play?" I asked Johnny and Richie.
With friends over, the boys entertained themselves.
They had a toy sale on the lawn. No one came. It reminded me of our last garage sale, when we made $47, or 79 cents per man hour.
They dressed as superheros. J.J., as usual, got stuck playing the bad guy.
They played chess. They ate bologna sandwiches. They pushed matchbox cars around the living room. They looked for ants. They played baseball. They held their pet caterpillars.
With nothing else to do, I swept the house 57 times. After the boys pick up their toys, there's always those mysterious cookie crumbs, raisins, cocoa pebbles, miniature swords, and dog hair left behind to sweep up.
Sometimes I feel like that fish in the aquarium that sucks the dirt off the sides all day. The other fish are like, "Hey we're going to a party in the fake castle. You wanna come?"
And she's like, "No, thanks, I'm going to suck the scum off the aquarium for the 7,453rd time today. You guys have fun though."
And at the party the other fish call her a sucker behind her back.
Still, our house is no cleaner than when I got started. I swear our dog gets a brand new head of hair every single day. I brush and pull off loose fur. Then he walks around the house and hair just sort of flies off him. It's like a hair storm. But it could be worse. I could have fur all over me this summer.
Poor Benny. Why can't he just shed all his hair, be bald, and get a new coat in the fall? Now that would be an intelligent design.
In the meantime, I'll just sweep my life away. I never liked those fake castle parties anyway. Everybody there is so fake.
How would I come up with a whopper when Johnny, 6, asked, "Why doesn't magic happen when I say abracadabra?"
How could I concoct evil plans when playing Joker to 4-year-old Richie's Batman.
What new special treat would I give J.J. since he's getting tired of frozen peas, or Dippin' Dots, as we call them around here?
I had to call in reinforcement.
"Why don't you ask Nicholas and Ryan over to play?" I asked Johnny and Richie.
With friends over, the boys entertained themselves.
They had a toy sale on the lawn. No one came. It reminded me of our last garage sale, when we made $47, or 79 cents per man hour.
They dressed as superheros. J.J., as usual, got stuck playing the bad guy.
They played chess. They ate bologna sandwiches. They pushed matchbox cars around the living room. They looked for ants. They played baseball. They held their pet caterpillars.
With nothing else to do, I swept the house 57 times. After the boys pick up their toys, there's always those mysterious cookie crumbs, raisins, cocoa pebbles, miniature swords, and dog hair left behind to sweep up.
Sometimes I feel like that fish in the aquarium that sucks the dirt off the sides all day. The other fish are like, "Hey we're going to a party in the fake castle. You wanna come?"
And she's like, "No, thanks, I'm going to suck the scum off the aquarium for the 7,453rd time today. You guys have fun though."
And at the party the other fish call her a sucker behind her back.
Still, our house is no cleaner than when I got started. I swear our dog gets a brand new head of hair every single day. I brush and pull off loose fur. Then he walks around the house and hair just sort of flies off him. It's like a hair storm. But it could be worse. I could have fur all over me this summer.
Poor Benny. Why can't he just shed all his hair, be bald, and get a new coat in the fall? Now that would be an intelligent design.
In the meantime, I'll just sweep my life away. I never liked those fake castle parties anyway. Everybody there is so fake.
posted by Midwest Mama at 7:40 AM
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