Thursday, August 30, 2007

Within My Rights

Is there some kind of rule that I don’t know about that says moms can never relax? Really, I want to know, because apparently I missed the amendment to my marriage/parental contract that says everyone is the house should pester the pee-waddin’ out of mom on the rare occasion that she gets the chance to sit down for a few minutes of quiet and relaxation. Don’t ask me what pee-waddin’ is. I don’t know. I have to make up words to keep from having such a potty mouth. What can I say? I’m my mother’s child. I swear there is a conspiracy in my house to drive me crazy. They don’t want me to rest. They want me tired. They want to make me so exhausted I’ll curl up in a ball in the corner, start sucking my thumb and have to be institutionalized. Then they can steal all of my money. Ha! All $278.56.

I have to run..on my lunch get my “alone” time. How crazy is that? I haven’t been running the last couple of days because I’ve been so busy. From sunrise to bedtime for nearly two weeks I’ve been extremely busy. I’m headed for cranky. I feel it coming on, and I really needed a few minutes of calm last night. Alas, it was not to happen as evident by the apparent invocation of the amendment mentioned in paragraph one.

Round 1 in their strategy to steal my inheritance: Wear her down with a request she should say no to but is too tired to say no to. 7:30pm-as I finally wrapped up cleaning the kitchen, bathroom and dining room table.
“Mom, does two sticks of butter equal one cup?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I’m baking cookies.”
“Why? I just cleaned up the kitchen.”
“But, I’m hungry for a cookie.”
“Get a little bit of that cookie mix out of the deep freeze and just make a few cookies instead of messing up the whole kitchen.”
“That tub of mix you bought from the school choir? That’s a year old. I’m going to make some.”
Sigh. “You have to clean up every mess you make. I mean it.”
“I will. I will.”

Round 2: Pound her with the shock and awe of conversation. 8pm-Right after I slipped unnoticed into the hot tub in the darkness of my backyard. Hubby (who I will remind you is retired) perched himself on the edge of the hot tub and said:
“Hey! There you are. Did you finally decide to come outside? What took you so long? Tired?”
“Hmm. I just want to sit here a few minutes and clear my head.”
“You want the radio on?”
“No. I just want silence.”
“Okay. So you had a rough day?”
“ Hey, have you figured how to change the lights yet?”
“Yes. I picked blue. I think they’re kind of soothing.”
“I want red. How come I can’t get the red? (insert repeated changing of multicolored lights.)
“I don’t want the red. I want blue. I’m relaxing.”
“But I want to know how to make them flash. They’re supposed to be able to flash.”
“Not now. I’m relaxing. Can you stop pushing the button?”
“Okay. Let me turn the jets down a little.”
“I like them where they are.”
“Yeah, but they’re too high.”
“I’m massaging my back. Please just leave them where they are for a minute. I’m relaxing.”
“I can’t figure out how to adjust these things. I guess I should read the manual.” (insert repeated changes in turbulence.)
“Yes, you should. Please, leave my water alone. I’m relaxing. You know, when you move around you turn the motion light on, and I’m no longer in the dark.”
“Yeah, that’s pretty funny.” (insert waving of arms.) “We need to fix that.”
“Okay, but could you please be still for just a minute, so it won’t go off?”
“Sure. Hey, I found out today these filters are expensive. You want to know how much it’s going to cost us when we get ready to replace that thing?”
“NO! I’m relaxing.”
“$83. Can you believe that?”
“I don’t want to know. I’M RELAXING!”
(insert more fidgeting and turning on of the motion light.)

So, after my brief soak, a second kitchen clean up and some restless sleep, I am starting another busy day. Tonight I’m invoking another amendment..the right to remain silent.

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