At first I thought it was a prank caller. But my life isn't that exciting. It was our new nanny, calling in sick. On her first day. She has strep. So I did what any enterprising, working mother would do...
I left my child in the care of my pets.
Yes, fine, I'm kidding. My sex obsessed mother was gracious enough to come to our house again. And when she saw how frazzled and crumpled I was, she begged me to take a long shower after I got home from work (I guess the shellacked helmet from the Bumble and Bumble hair powder was a dead giveaway that I was heading off to work...you know, extra stinky).
While I was at work my mother vacuumed, made beef stew, and put dryer sheets in Chuck's shoes (why didn't I think of that?). Thankfully, she refrained from asking if Chuck and I incorporate the vacuum, beef stew, and dryer sheets into our bedroom repertoire.
When I got home and she saw the brown streaks streaming down the sides of my face—it rained and the hair powder ran, go figure—she handed me the Scotch she'd been drinking (hey, no one said she was perfect) and told me I was starting to look at right at home on my street.
Which actually made me laugh so hard I snarfed Scotch. Which then made my eyes water, which started the tears rolling. I don't know if you've ever seen a tired, wrinkled woman with greasy hair, running nostrils, and brown facial streaks before but yah, I was smokin.
But you know what? She and Junior wanted a big hug from me anyway.
About me: I'm 42 and added another gherkin to our pickle party of a family. My husband Chuck, our 9-year-old Junior, our 6-year-old Everett, our toddler and I live in a town in Connecticut I affectionately call Mulletville Lite (aka my childhood hometown). My friends call me Nutjob, and they're right. In my husband's spare time he dresses up as a Viking and chases ghosts (and I'm the nutjob?). When I'm not busy working as a graphic designer, I lie in a ball in the corner.