Just Another Manic Monday…
It’s always refreshing when your dog goes to the bathroom in the middle of the floor during dinner. Under the kitchen table. Nothing sets the ambiance more than a glass of wine, a nicely assembled plate of pasta and a pile of poop. The smell has pretty much permeated throughout the entire house as we sit here pondering “Now what?” and I’m also pondering “Whose dumb idea was this anyway?” and “When can I leave?”
What ensues would put Dr. Phil and Super Nanny into a tailspin. Half of a deliciously prepared dinner sits uneaten in one corner. One kid’s homework is spread out on the table (with just a tad of sauce on it) and my computer is now open at the other place setting (a cardinal No-No in the world of Super Nanny). The piano teacher has just arrived (whoops, forgot it was Monday) and the entire family is now growling at the dog because that’s what the trainer told us to do to show we’re pack leaders. Except when the piano teacher gets here we greet her with a growl instead of a hello. Oh, and during my five minutes of clarity I threw away every single piece of crumpled up paper from my youngest child’s backpack and now she’s screaming bloody murder because I threw away all of the “special projects I made just for mommy today at school!”
Not to mention the lights just went out because it’s pouring. I think I’m going to order Chinese. I wonder if they deliver valium. In New York they would. Oh yeah, I don’t live there anymore. I live in a city where THEY DON’T DELIVER CHINESE OR ANYTHING ELSE FOR THAT MATTER and you have to go and pick it up in the pouring rain. And it will probably be covered in grease. Or mayo.
So I guess we’re not ordering Chinese. We’ll take a Time-Out from our nicely assembled pasta (yes, recipe will follow) until all smells and growls subside. Everyone will get a bath. I’ll force myself to put my computer away and eat like a civilized human being. Or I just won’t eat. I’ll drink. Yes, tonight I’ll drink my dinner.
And the rest of the family will get pasta. The dog will get ignored. The carpet will get cleaned. And as Walter Cronkite would have said, “And That’s The Way It Is.”
And I’ll cry and miss these days in ten years when everyone is out of the house and there is no chaos.