I should never leave the room because when I come back, at least one of the following things are guaranteed to have happened:
- Someone will have taken my chair – if not the kids, the cat. If not the cat, four ninja turtles hanging out in a hot pink Barbie Roadster. And if nobody’s taken the chair, the chances are that somebody pissed on it in my absence.
- All the toy boxes will have been upended and the resulting mountain of toys will have been generously sprinkled with milk.
- All shoes and socks will have been removed and thrown around the room and somebody will be unexpectedly – and most inconveniently – naked. Quite possibly my husband.
- Small hands will have magicked scissors out of thin air and will be honing their fine motor skills by cutting up my passport or wedding photos.
- My husband will have picked up one of his guitars and will be strumming with his “guitar face” on, putting an end to all possible conversation for the next hour.
- The previous tableaux of domestic bliss – for example: three children reading books on the couch in the fading afternoon sun – will have disintegrated into an on-for-one-and-all shit-fight (quite literally, if the youngest happens to be unexpectedly naked).
- Somebody will have taken all the DVDs out of their cases and and rubbed them vigorously with sandpaper. It’s the only way I can explain how they all get so scratched.
- My keys will have gone mysteriously missing and I’ll find myself wishing – not for the first time – that I could phone my keys to find out where the hell they are.
- My cousin (“mystery v”) will have convinced my husband to try table-dancing for a living because the hours for table-dancing would suit him better than his current job.
- The cat will have vomited on one of the library books.
- Worst of all: someone will have spilt my drink. This means that, as I face whatever else has happened in my absence, I am unable to take a slug to steady my nerves. And it also means that I will have to leave the room AGAIN.
(*sigh*)
You know the wierd part is we might live in the same house. Well, except the husband things. My husband hasn’t touched his guitar since he learned the first chord and he doesn’t dance. But he’ll be either on the phone, on the computer, or playing a stupid fantasy American football game.
You know, faemom, with the current state of my house, it is entirely possible there is another family living here underneath all the mess.
If you find my carkeys, let me know…
Don’t knock the guitar face. It’s a transcendent state that means we’re not really in the room any more (are there equivalents? Putting on new shoes face? Knitting face?).
Still laughing at the “literal shit fight”. It’s an image all right.
“Knitting face”… !
I think we share the same cat NDM. She is a fiend for chair stealing and vengeance pissing. And she woke me this morning at 5:17am doing a big hairball vomit on the bedroom floor. Thank god for the handy roll of toilet paper that had not quite made it to the bathroom!
And that’s exactly why I never tidy away anything because you never know when it will come in handy.
Well, he asked me if I had any ideas for a new job for him and I just went with the first thing that came into my head. I was only joking, but I did catch a strange look in’t eye. Sorry!
“The first thing that came into my head”, eh?
I don’t know what you’re complaining about, NDM. Your life sounds so exciting!
You’ve seen me about the ‘hood, LSK. Do I look excited to you?
at least you know WHY you are leaving the room. I quite often find myself standing in a new room, having left the old one with enormous purpose and find myself thinking…”why am I here?”
Oh, I have that too. Often find myself making that scissors action with my hand, except in front of an open fridge.
Ha! I guess when you leave a room, you should not plan on coming back for the rest of the day.
I like your style, alantru.
guitar face! (know it well!)
Ah, someone else who’s life has been touched by the “guitar face”…
Actually, worse of all is that somenone will have spilt your drink and it was last of the vodka….
Oh, Kate. Speak not of such horror…
All good reasons to leave the room, slip out the back door to “go get a carton of milk” and never return.
I suspect it is the Ninja Turtles that are peeing on your chair. They’re very territorial.
Hope you are well NDM.
“I suspect it is the Ninja Turtles that are peeing on your chair. They’re very territorial.”
I have rules about comments being more humourous than the original post, Donald.
i think “kids DVD’s” come with sandpaper hidden in a special secret compartment only known to “them” whoahohoho (magical eeevil laugh)
There’s definitely a conspiracy, BH. And we are all DVD-wiping pawns in their Evil Game…
On my list are also (and these have all happened to me within the last month):
• someone will have covered themselves with half a container of talcum powder and then dusted the rest of it all over the couch, carpet, etc. etc.
• someone will be found at the top of a set of shelves, having climbed it like a ladder in search of something forbidden which had been naively stored on the top shelf by an idiot of a mother,
• someone will have turned on the tap in the bathroom, put the plug in the sink, played with the running water for a bit and then gone back to whatever it is they were doing,
and my personal favourite:
• someone will have gone into their parents’ bedroom, found the *secret* compartment where such things are kept, taken the little square wrapped packages with something circular inside and put them in his own box of special things to treasure, cherish and share with friends (he didn’t open them, BTW).
As for the sandpapered dvds, I recently found myself reminiscing fondly on the days of vinyl. Even if you scratched it, you could manually jump the needle past the scratch. A scratched cd/dvd just stops dead at the same spot every time…
Thank you for sharing, Muliercula.
Yes, we’ve had that same problem with Mummy and Daddy’s “special lollies”. For some reason, they are so appealing to small people. Do you think we should go after Durex for targeting the pre-tweens?
same in this household, but substitute “trombone face” for “guitar face”.
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