Motherhussy

The Boys Are Back In Town

As I write, there are four boys in my house, five bikes in my yard, and three skateboards on the sidewalk out front. The yard somewhat resembles a post apocalyptic playground. It’s officially official now; the boys are back in town! Since eight o’clock this morning Cody and Colton have been like little schizophrenics, bouncing from one thing to another from the Playstation 2 to the bikes, to the skateboards, to the couches, to the kitchen—I’m just waiting for them to realize how much they want to lay down and take a nap. That hasn’t happened yet. Please happen.

Yesterday I was on the verge of breakdown, so worried that they wouldn’t be happy to be home; that they would want to continue the Hollywood redneck lifestyle they had been living in Utah for the past month. I was so wracked with guilt and emotion that I almost killed Anthony—twice. The first subconscious attempt was on our way to meet with “Dollins” our financial planner. I really don’t know why we have a financial planner at this point, I guess he’s there to laugh in our faces when we tell him that we’re trying to save for a house—in the South Bay area.

“So, how long are you looking at buying?” he asks.
“Oh, maybe in five years or so,” we answer.
“Excuse me for a moment, please,” Dollins politely says as he steps out of the conference room.

Why did he even bother leaving the room? We can hear his mixture of insane laughter and snorts combined with his failed attempts at subduing himself. Not encouraging. But I digress. I was talking about killing my husband.

While I’m driving to pick up Anthony, my mother calls to inform me of the horrendous things my babies have been subjected to in Utah: Boxing, Rated M video games, nights of un-brushed teeth, bratty stepbrothers. Oh the humanity! I’m so involved in this torturous tale that as I pull up to the curb to pick up Anthony, I don’t fully stop. Anthony had a hold of the open car door and was being drug along at the dangerous pace of .5 mph. Oh the humanity—again! Needless to say I got an earful about it.

The second time I tried to kill Anthony yesterday was upon approaching a two-way stop. I almost didn’t stop. It was the piercing shriek that assaulted my ears like tiny pickle forks that stopped me. The piercing shriek came from my dear husband. Needless to say, I heard it from him again the second time. I heard it from him as I stopped the car, got out, and let him continue the drive to Dollins’. Apparently, I was a sniper behind the wheel.

I guess I can’t blame him, he must have been thinking that I was strapped for cash after my binge at the farmer’s market last week. His life insurance policy would have covered the cost of fresh corn—and then some! But I actually love him and wasn’t trying to kill him. Blame it on the ADD, I blame everything else on it.

Although yesterday and this morning’s events proved to be traumatic, I’m still surviving. Cody just came in with a wounded knee from a bike accident. I don’t think we’re going to have to amputate, but I’m not sure. I think the fact that he wants to go to Target and buy cards is a good sign and I’m going to go with it. I just hope I can get to the car through the tangled overgrowth of wild bikes and skateboards.

posted by Anonymous @ 3:32 PM