My husband is usually in charge of taking the kids to school but he was out of town this week so I drove the kids. We drive neighbor boy and his brother so the car is full. The kids are pretty low-key in the morning but they will chat.
I really enjoy this age because you can have legitimate conversations with them and their perceptions about things are highly amusing. This morning we were listening to the radio and I remarked, "I feel like all the songs on the radio are about grown ups wanting to be kids again." This struck a cord with neighbor boy who exclaimed, "Yes! There are!" Then he went on to name at least 4 songs with this theme. "Why do you think that is?"
"Because being a grown up is horrible."
"Why?"
"Because you have to have all of these responsibilities," he replied. "It would only be good if you had like, a lot of money and no kids."
My oldest daughter chimed in, "Yeah, I'm not ever having kids. I'm only having cats." I used to say the same thing when I was a teenager. Look at me now - mommy blogging and shit.
Neighbor boy agreed, "I'm not having kids either. Well, maybe like 2." He went from 0 to 2 pretty quickly.
I was a little sad that at 12 years old they have this perception that having kids is horrible. Don't get me wrong - having kids can be kind of horrible. They make you sleep deprived, drain your bank account, roll their eyes, talk back, make huge messes BUT they are amazing, funny, sweet, and bring soooooo much joy. I'm glad that I had kids after all.
I addressed their having-kid bashing, "Maybe you won't have any kids, maybe you'll have a few. I think children come when they are supposed to and that God gives you as many kids as you can handle. That's why I only have two. God saw me and thought, She can't handle anymore than she has." Thanks God - that's good looking out.
My oldest said, "Well, I was an ACCIDENT." That's her favorite thing to rub in my face. I was quick to correct her. "Not, an ACCIDENT. A SURPRISE."
She rolled her eyes. "That's like the same thing."
"Oh, your life has been hard?"
She thought about it. "No." Exactly.
She makes it sound like I was some crack whore that got knocked up by my pimp or something. Was it ideal? No, but it turned out okay. Life is not butterflies and rainbows - it is unplanned pregnancies and unexpected auto-repairs.
My youngest daughter doesn't have a better outlook on family life. I remarked to her that I was disappointed that we wouldn't be going to see a new Hunger Games this November. It was a tradition for so many years.
"They should still make more movies. We need to find out what happens to Katniss," she said.
"We know what happened to Katniss. She married Peta and had kids and lived happily ever after," I replied.
"No," my daughter said.
"Yes, that's how they ended it."
She sighed, "That is just so stupid and boring."
"What? Getting married and having kids."
"Yes!"
There you have it folks - my children think having kids and families is stupid and boring and basically the worst.
So, in 15 years this blog will be called the Bad Grand-Mom Award Blog and it will chronicle the visits I have with my grandcats. Whatever.
I haven't updated in a while. My laptop freaking broke. I hate using my desktop computer. I'm like, I only write on my laptop, in bed, with a mug of coffee next to me on the beside table. I'm such an uppity bitch. My new one should come today so I can be legit again. The homework is starting to get real in this house. This is week 2. Monday, Tuesdays and Thursdays are hard because both kids don't get home until a quarter after 7. Then it's get changed, have dinner, homework, read and bed. They didn't settle in to do homework until almost 8 pm on Monday. My oldest was done her homework awfully quick. "You finished your homework already?" "Yes." "What did you have?" "Math and science but I couldn't do my science because I left my notes at school." "Let me see your science." She rolled her eyes at me and reluctantly presented her science sheet. It was definitions and they had to match the scientist to their contributions. "Why do you need your science notebook for this?" "It has the answers in it." My child was holding her iphone in her hand when she said it. I held it up. "Do you see this? It has the internet. The internet has all the answers. We can watch a 20 minute video about the contributions of Leeuwenhoek right now." I handed her a dictionary. "Definitions - look them up!"
My child is smart, she is resourceful, she was just being lazy. She shot me a dirty look and she got to work, My husband chimed in, "If I find out that homework isn't being done, I will call your teachers and tell them to give you silent lunch everyday of your life."
I had to chuckle, hearing this from my husband. The guy who never did homework. Like, NEVER. Not until college. I remember being a junior in high school and walking down the hallway between classes one day. A teacher approached me, "You are C-man's girlfriend, aren't you?" Shit! She caught us making out behind the D-hall staircase. I'm about to be given a detention. "Yes," I replied, waiting to be reprimanded. "You are in the honor society, right?" I wasn't sure what she was getting at but I nodded. "Maybe you could encourage your boyfriend to start turning in his homework. He needs to pass my class." I was like, "Okay."
I always did my homework at his house after school (if I wasn't working). He would play video games. That day I told him about how his teacher approached me in the hallway. "You should do your homework with me." He laughed, "No, I'm not." I protested, "I'm not going to make out with you then." He raised an eyebrow, "Yes, you will."
That is one of the things that I loved about him. He just did what he wanted to do. He decided to join the ARMY and didn't talk to anyone about it. He didn't consult his parents. He just went and signed on the line, I was fascinated by him. He could just decide to not do his homework and it didn't eat him up inside. If he didn't like something, he said so. If he wanted to do something, he just did it. There was no self-doubt or second guessing. He was so laid back and saw life so much differently than I did.
He would do things like show up at my house with no warning and declare that we were going to the beach, or driving to a mall 2 hours away. To hell with planning anything. He was the part of me that I was missing. He made me feel alive, I saw so much potential in him.
And here we are, 15 years later with a almost-teenager of our own and he is on her like white-on-rice about her homework. It's amazing how much time and experience can change us.
Our youngest is more like me when it comes to homework. She's been pretty easy. She has been driving me crazy about one thing though - summer sausage, That's right, you read that correctly....f**king summer sausage.
She came home last week and said, "We were talking about food at lunch and someone brought up summer sausage. I love summer sausage. Can we get some soon?"
"I mean...I guess."
That is how you respond to my 10 year old. You kind of just put her off. You never say, "no" directly. That shit will lead to a world of pain that I'm just too tired to deal with.
Everyday, I've been hearing about summer sausage. Summer sausage is not a food that you just randomly buy. Summer sausage is a Christmas Day kind of food.
Last night I was laying with her in bed and she was going through how the following day would go. "I'm going to wake myself up in the morning because you have to take dad to the airport. Then, I'm going to go to school. Then, we are going to see the orthopedist and then we are going to go to the supermarket and get sushi and summer sausage."
"What?"
She repeated herself, "Then we are going to go to the supermarket and get sushi and summer sausage."
"We are?"
"Yes. You PROMISED. Mom - summer is almost over and then the summer sausage will be GONE."
I did not promise. Maybe we had a conversation in her head where I agreed to this. She stared off into space, "Yes. We can also buy some cheese and crackers to go with the summer sausage and put it on a platter and gather around it and eat it." I'm not kidding you, she said gather around the summer sausage.
She is not a normal 10 year old. She is like a 42 year old woman. Bless her little old soul.
This morning she was packing sandals in her book bag and explained to me, "I'm wearing Converse to school but I'm going to put on my sandals when we go to the store to get the summer sausage." This is an event. It requires a change of shoes.
So tonight, you will find me with my 5th grader, gathered around a platter of summer sausage. Because that's how we roll.
My children going back to school was anti-climatic this year. I feel like they just got out of school and that we are returning after a long weekend. The children did not have a sense of excitement about the whole thing. My 10 year old was nonchalant. "Are you excited about going back to school?" She shrugged. My oldest was more honest. "Are you excited to go back to school?"
She replied, "Not really. It's kind of like going back to prison." Then she went on to list all the reasons that school is similar to prison. "You're being ridiculous! The school doesn't even have barbed wire around the perimeter..." Also, the prison system is better funded than the education system, which is just the worst.
The night before the first day of school we made the girls pick out their clothes for the week. They laid out their shoes and packed their book bags and set them by the front door. We sent them off to bed early. We went to bed early too. We were about to start a 180 day marathon, after all.
The alarm went off at 6:00. I opened my eyes. I was curled up at the end of the bed like a dog and my 10 year old was on my side of the bed. What the hell happened? I groaned, "Hit snooze!" My husband did as he was told. After 3 minutes, my 12 year old came in, bright eyed and bushy tailed. "Guys, it's 6:03. What time are you getting up?"
"6:09."
"Why? That's random."
"Snooze goes for 9 minutes."
"Why 9 minutes?"
"Because it's enough time for you to fall back asleep but not long enough for you to go into a deep sleep. It's science or something. Let me rest now."
She didn't let me rest. She talked...and talked...and talked. She told me that she got up 2 hours ago and that she couldn't get back to sleep. She talked about how she decided to use her Vera Bradley book bag and not her hobo book bag. She seemed awfully excited about the first day of school for a kid who compared it to prison.
The alarm went off at 6:09 and she threw her hands in the air. "Up and at em' engineer!" GROAN!
"Do you know the story of why we say that?" I asked.
"No."
"There was this book that you LOVED when you were a baby. The first line was "Sun's up/ Morning's here/ Up and at em' engineer."
"You memorized it?"
"Oh yes! You would make us read it all the time."
This freaking book,
She would carry it around with her and demand that we read it at all time. It didn't matter what you were doing. I'd be in the kitchen making dinner and she would walk in with her little toddler self and demand, "READ! TRAIN!" When your toddler tells you to READ TRAIN, you'd better READ TRAIN. I've read this damn book in the car, on the kitchen floor, a million times before bed, on the toilet with a two year on my lap. I tried hiding it once and she had a full on freak out. So it came back.
We finally had to get rid of it because the spine had come apart, some of the pages had been ripped. The cover was scratched from being dragged across the floor. Yet 10 years later we still tell the children, "Up and at em', engineer." The legacy of Chugga-Chugga Choo-Choo lives on in this house.
Anyway, back to reality. The kids got themselves ready to go. I went downstairs and cooked a hot breakfast and made lunches. Most hated task ever.
We sat down together and had breakfast and then went outside to take pictures. The girls weren't being jerks this year and actually stood next to each other and SMILED. It was super awesome.
They hugged me goodbye and and loaded into the car. I stood in the driveway and waved as they drove off.
That was it. It was over. There were no pangs of sadness, no nostalgia, not even one tear. It was just me standing alone in the driveway.
They came home that evening and told me about their days. Everything went well. There were no hiccups and no drama. We made it through day 2 just fine.
This morning though, it was rough. I didn't sleep well. My 10 year old woke me up at 2 am to throw the cat on my bed. "This cat keeps attacking my feet and waking me up! I HATE YOU, JEFF!" She yelled before stomping out of the bedroom and slamming the door. I was disoriented. What the hell is happening? The cat just sat on the side of the bed and looked at me like, What?
I couldn't get back asleep. I stared at the ceiling for an hour, then I had crazy dreams about swimming in water fountains and breaking into people's houses. When the alarm went off, my husband and I were not ready. He got up and rubbed his eyes, "Dude! We have to do this every day?!?! Getting up early is the worst." It's only day 3 and we are already struggling. It might be a tough year for us.
Well, it turns out that my 10 year old broke her finger. We had a one week follow up to have another x-ray but I took her back early because something was seriously wrong. Even after the swelling went down, she couldn't move it at all and she had crazy bruising on the underside of her hand. Down the palm, along the knuckle and up all the fingers. It freaked me out. She never complained that it hurt. Sometimes she remarked that it was pulsing but she didn't whine or a cry about it. This kid is tough as hell.
We took her to an orthopedist who confirmed that she had a buckle fracture at the growth plate. She doesn't need surgery but it needs to be buddy- taped for 8 weeks and she is only allowed to lift a fork and pencil in that hand. "After 8 weeks can I do my gymnastics?" she asked.
She won't sit on the sidelines for 8 weeks. She had boot camp all week and will do conditioning and some stuff on the balance beam and the floor. She has so much more discipline than I'll ever have. I pick her up from practice and she'll say, "I did 200 crunches today, 40 burpees, 50 push ups and then tumbling for 2 hours...." I'm like, "I ate 2 and a half cupcakes today, so...."
She has been so excited to watch the Olympic gymnasts. She's been talking about it for months. The problem with the Olympics is that we are cord cutters. We were cord cutters before it was cool to be a cord cutter. We can access NBC through out internet package and we have Chromecast, so I thought we would be good.
We streamed the Parade of Nations and Opening Ceremony but then we couldn't stream the gymnastics. We called our cable internet provider and were like, "What the f**k?" Their response was, "You can watch NBC but not NBC Sports. You can upgrade your package,"
"Can we do that for 1 month?"
"No, it requires a 12 month commitment."
NO. JUST NO,
So I figured out that we can stream NBC Sports by doing a subscription with SlingTV. We can subscribe through the Olympics and then cancel. So I signed up BUT their streams suck. They show gymnastics at either 6am or 2 am. They show 2 hours of canoeing in the middle of the day. SlingTV is basically a bag of d**ks.
My sweet friend offered to let us watch at her house. However, finding the schedule on the NBC website is crazy and confusing. I want to send NBC like, 1,000 hate letters. I saw that they were going to be showing the US gymnasts on Thursday at 8. Perfect.
My 10 year old was so excited as she walked down the street to the neighbor's house with her gymnastics pillow under her arm. We settled in and started watching the gymnastics. Then NBC was like, We are now going to interrupt the gymnastics finals for 2 hours of swimming. Damn them. Damn them to hell.
Spoiler alert: Micheal Phelps won a gold medal. Again.
They didn't show the rest of the US women's gymnastics until 11 pm. We were at the edge of our seats. I think they should just do a live stream of Ali Raisman's parents. They are the funniest. These girls are unbelievable. We were amazed. They didn't do the medal ceremony until midnight. We were tired but my daughter was so excited we got to watch it. FINALLY.
We made our way home after midnight. I remembered about the meteor shower that was supposed to happen that night. "Want to see some shooting stars?" I asked. She nodded. We were greeted at the front door by my 12 year old and her friend who was spending the night. They wanted to join us. We spread a huge blanket out in the back yard and laid on our backs, looking up at the sky.
After 30 seconds my 12 year old declared, "This is stupid. I don't see anything."
"Just wait, your eyes have to adjust."
After a while the sky got darker and we could see all the stars. We saw the first shooting star. We SQUEALED with delight. "WHOA! Look!" the kids said, pointing to the sky.
It was AMAZING. I've never seen a shooting star and it was on my bucket list. Check.
As we watched and waited, the girls pointed out some of the constellations. They are both interested space, stars and planets. "Let's see if we can find cancer." I can't see any of the constellations. Just looks like a bunch of dots to me.
Does that look like a crab to you? No, no it doesn't.
We saw another shooting star and then another. "Make a wish on each one," I reminded them. We laid out there for almost an hour before I shuffled them up to bed. It was after 1 am. I know we should be getting them back in the routine of school and I totally fail.
We folded up the blanket and my 12 year old said, "Besides our trip, this was one of the best things that happened all summer." I had to agree. I hope their wishes come true.
The other night my 10 year old was being her normal self. She had a flip out because I told her that she had to...wait for it...go to bed at 10 pm. I know, I am like, the worst mom ever. She brushed her teeth and stomped into her room. I followed her to tuck her in.
I leaned in to give her a kiss on her forehead and she frowned at me and turned away. "Why do you hate me so much?" I asked.
She turned to me, frustrated, and said, "I don't hate you. I'm just displeased with you right now."
I tried to hold it in but it was too much. I laughed out loud. What 10 year old says the word displeased?
This just pissed her off even more. She shouted: "STOP LAUGHING AT MY VOCABULARY!"
That made me laugh even harder. "JUST LEAVE ME!!!" I kissed her on the back of her head. "Good night, I love you," I said. I thought, I hope you stop being crazy soon...
I went to kiss my 12 year old goodnight. "Get to bed. We have to leave for your ENT appointment at 8:20 in the morning." She nodded.
My oldest has some hearing loss in the right ear. She does really well and you wouldn't even notice unless you knew. We have her hearing checked annually just to make sure it doesn't get worse.
I woke up early the next morning. I went in my daughter's room at 7:30. "We need to leave in about an hour. It's time to get up."
She groaned, "Just 10 more minutes."
I went back at 7:45. "Get up, we need to leave in about half an hour."
She groaned and mumbled, "Ok."
Lo and behold, at 8:05 am this child was still not up. I was tired of being nice.
I went into her room started singing to her - LOUDLY. "IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP. WE NEED TO LEAVE IN 15 MINUTES. GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BEEEEEEDDDDD!" Then I played air piano on her. Really intense air piano. Like, Elton John playing Philadelphia Freedom style air piano.
I know this is off topic, but when I was a kid I legit thought that Elton John was from Philadelphia because of Philadelphia Freedom. I grew up outside of Philly so I thought he was one of us. I was very upset when I found out as an adult that, not only is he not from Philadelphia - he is not even American. It blew my mind. I still haven't gotten over it fully.
Anyway, back to playing air piano on my kid. She was so mad. She flung her comforter off the bed and stood up. "I hate you," she snarled.
Good. "Well, maybe if you got up the first 2 times I asked you to, I would not have to resort to such extreme measures."
She was ready to go at 8:15. I packed her breakfast to eat in the car. She didn't speak to me. Story of my life.
We got to the appointment and they called her back for her hearing screening. She's a pro at this by now. The audiologist came out and gave us the results. She hasn't had any changes. I expected that.
Then we saw the ENT. He was great. He discussed all of these tests we could do to determine what caused her hearing loss. He mentioned that we might want to do a genetic test in the future when she thinks about having kids in case they have the same problem. That was weird to hear. I was like, Oh yeah! My kids might have kids someday. I declined because it won't change the treatment plan. Maybe when she's older.
We talked about how sometimes if you are talking to her from a long distance she can't hear you well or if she is in a group and there is a lot of surrounding noise she might have difficulty. He doesn't feel like she needs a hearing aid at this time since it's only a frequency that she can't hear.
Her left ear overcompensates for her right ear. He recommended that she sit in the front of the class to the right so that her left side is facing the teacher at the center of the room. "Can I get that recommendation in writing?"
"What school does she go to? Not only will I put it in writing but I'll fax it directly to the school."
He is awesome. My daughter was not happy. She crossed her arms and scowled. "What's wrong?"
"I don't want to sit at the front of the class."
"Why?"
"Because what if none of my friends sit up front?"
"This is school, not social hour."
She had tears in her eyes. "It's not fair. You are the WORST."
I'm the worst. You know, because I want my kid to sit in the front of the class so she can HEAR her teachers clearly. Horrible mother. I pray she can forgive me someday.
I know that she doesn't want to be different than other kids and that she doesn't want anyone to know about it. We definitely try our best to not make it a big deal. I've always explained to her that it's just like people with poor eyesight. Some people just have better vision than other people and some have better hearing. It's not bad, it just is what IS.
If anything, she should be proud. She is a good student, she is in excellent musician and singer, she never had any delays in spite of the fact that she has this issue. That is a miraculous thing. I am so damn proud of her. I think she's perfect exactly like she is and I wouldn't change a thing. Okay, maybe her attitude. But besides that, I wouldn't change a thing.
My 10 year old, God love her. She is trying to figure out who she is as a person and she has also been trying my patience on a daily basis.
I don't know when it started - maybe a month before school ended but she is driving me to the brink. She is super moody and everything has become a battle. I mean EVERYTHING. She questions or refuses everything that I tell her to do. Even things that are simple. I'm not talking about cleaning her room. I'm talking about basic things that are vital to her existence.
Here is an example:
"I made you breakfast. Go downstairs and eat it."
"No. I don't want to eat breakfast."
"You HAVE to, you have camp today."
"I don't care."
"Go downstairs NOW!" Screaming. I have to scream. Then she goes downstairs. She sits at the table and looks at her food.
"Please eat it."
She just stares at me.
"F**KING EAT THE FOOD."
She slowly begins to shovel the food into her mouth. She has a smirk. I'm just like:
Seriously, that is how it goes all damn day. If I ask her to brush her teeth, go to bed, get out of bed, clean her room, put on deodorant, turn off the TV, come to dinner - we have this exchange. I shit you not, I told her to put on her shoes the other day because we were LEAVING THE HOUSE and she looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Why?"
I feel like I have a 3 year old all over again. I know exactly what it is; she is testing her boundaries and is trying to exert her control when she feels like I am trying to "control" what she does. I understand that it's a normal part of development but it is sooooooo annoying. When I've had it, I throw my hands up exasperated and shout, "Why does everything have to be a battle with you?!?!?!"
So, do you know what she has started to do? She has started to say, "Why does everything have to be a battle with you, mom?" She throws it right back at me.
She said this to me when we had a fight in public the other day while buying school supplies. The day started well, we were having a good time. We had our supply list and were going down the aisle picking out what she needed. Scissors were on the list. They had some Scotch scissors. My daughter protested.
"Those are baby scissors."
"No they're not. They are regular scissors. They are small enough to fit in your pencil case."
"No, they are for babies. I want big scissors."
She pointed to a pair of 6 inch shears.
These were huge scissors. Scissors that could be used to murder.
"Ummm....you can't have scissors like that at the middle school."
She was so angry. She threw up her hands and said, "Why does everything have to be a battle with you, MOM?!?!?!"
She was loud and everyone stopped to look at us. I was so mad at her. "Let's just go," I said between my clenched teeth. She folded her arms and rolled her eyes.
As we walked out of the store, I let out a deep sigh. That's when she lost it. "What does that mean, mom? You think I'm horrible and you just want me to shut up and you hate me."
"I didn't say that."
"Yes you did."
"Seriously, I never said any of that."
"WELL, YOU WERE THINKING IT!!!!!!"
She was being an a**hole to me for what she assumed I was thinking. I was just praying to God to give me patience and strength.
Thank God I'm not working because if I was, this week would have been hell. It's been cray cray over here. It started out Monday morning in the wee hours. At 2 am on Monday, I felt a tap on my shoulder. What the hell? My 12 year old was standing in front of me in tears.
"Mom, I can't sleep. My legs are hurting." Oh no, not again. When she has a growth spurt she has leg pain in the middle of the night. Between 9-10 years old she grew 5 inches and this was a common occurrence. I got up, went downstairs and got her some ibuprofen and water. After she took the medicine, she looked at me with big puppy dog eyes and said, "Can I sleep with you guys?" I told her she could.
My 5 foot tall, 100 pound child climbed in-between us in our queen sized bed, Then she clung to me like a little baby spider monkey while I cliff hung off the edge of the bed. When I was sure she was fast asleep, I slipped out and went to sleep in her room. I woke up hugging a stuffed animal.
She had band camp all week and the 10 year old had gymnastics camp so we were all up early. There were lunches to be made, snacks to be packed, and children to be shuffled. I was tired but I took an epic nap that afternoon. I f**king love naps.
On Wednesday, my 10 year old had a orthodontist appointment at 11 am. I wanted her to stay home from gymnastics camp that morning. I told her I would take her in the afternoon. That was not acceptable.
"Mom, just drop me off at 8. I can get 3 hours in before the appointment. That's what I need to do."
The child is OBSESSED with gymnastics. She wants to quit school and move in with some Chinese coach and do gymnastics all day. I'm like, "NO."
She watches gymnastics videos on Youtube all the time and gives me the play by play. That morning when I dropped her off she was talking about the Russian team. "They just made silly mistakes. The one girl went over the line, they weren't sticking their landings. The Russians are good, and the Chinese too but I think the US is the best..."
I dropped her off at 8 and then turned around to pick her up at 11. When I walked into the gym, she was sitting with an ice pack on her hand. She wasn't crying - until she saw me.
"What happened, baby?"
"I was doing a back handspring and I jammed my finger."
"Let me see it."
I was expecting a red finger. She removed the ice pack...
Her middle finger and the knuckle were swollen and bruised and her middle finger was completely bent to the side. It was very unnatural looking. It was a shocking sight.
"When did this happen?" I asked the coach.
"Literally, right before you got here."
I turned back to my daughter. "Can you move it? Does it hurt?"
"I can't feel it and I can't move it,"she replied.
My heart sunk into my stomach. That can't be good.
I gathered her things and we drove straight to urgent care. She was sobbing on the way there.
"Why are you crying like that? Does it hurt?"
"I'm not going to be able to train...." she sobbed. She was so upset about having to sit out practices.
"Well, let's just see what the doctor says."
They ushered us back as soon as we got there and the doctor ordered an x-ray. After it was read, they came back in and told us it was dislocated and they were going to pop it back into place. My daughter immediately started having a freak out.
I held her hand while they gave her some shots to numb it. Then I watched as they pulled out her finger and reset it. This poor child screamed bloody murder. I felt terrible for her. Then, it was done. They left to go get a splint and we looked at her finger. She could feel it and bend it, which was good. It was so swollen and tight it looked like her skin would just rip open.
They came back with a tool box and what looked like a curtain rod. They put it up against her finger, bent it and cut it to size. It's a huge-ass splint. She held it up and was basically giving me the middle finger. By the time we left, she was back to her normal self.
I got her home, gave her some Motrin, fixed her lunch, and put on the TV. She was good to go. Then, the door bell rang. It was the termite bond guy. I forgot he was scheduled to come that day. I thought I'd had enough excitement for one day - but I was wrong.
He explained what he was going to do, I signed some papers. He smiled at me and was very friendly. I didn't think anything of it. The outlet outside wasn't working so I plugged in the electrical cord inside. I told him to let me know if I needed to do the same for the backyard.
He give me a smirk and said, "That's okay. I have a very, very, VERY long cord," Then he chuckled. What the f**k? The way he said it, gave me the impression that he was not talking about the extension cord.
I went back inside. I called my husband. "Dude, I think the termite guy just hit on me,"
"Why do you think that?"
"He just smiled at me and told me he has a very, very, VERY long cord. I think he was alluding to his wiener."
"I'm sure you are taking it out of context. I'm sure he didn't say it like that."
"He said very 3 times and he was giving me a weird smirk the whole time. Why couldn't he just say 'The cord will reach' or 'I should be able to get to the back yard.' I'm telling you, he was being a weirdo."
"You think everyone is hitting on you."
"I DO NOT."
"Oh yeah? What about the washing machine guy?"
In my defense, the washing machine repair guy was trying to flirt with me and then when I was in the laundry room writing him a check, he leaned into me and told me I smelled delicious. So, that is legit.
I DO NOT think that everyone hits on me. The lawn guy has never hit on me, the FedEx man has never hit on me, the contractor who fixed the porch never hit on me, the mailman has never hit on me, I have been around a lot of men who have never hit on me but the termite guy totally was.
I don't think that I am worthy to be hit on. I'm just pretty average mom-type. The termite guy seems like a guy who is playing a numbers game. Like, if he hits on enough housewives, statistically one of them is going to go for it. Gross. I did not want to hear about the very, very, VERY long cord anymore.
When he was done, I signed the rest of the paperwork and avoided eye contact with him. Then, I went upstairs to check on my little one. She held up her splint. "Look mom, I'm giving you the middle finger and I can't even get in trouble for it."
