I haven't had a vacation in 15 years. Today my day started at 6.01 am when the cat bit me (on the ASS, wtf?) and then purred and yawned in my face. I passed out from sweat exhaustion went to sleep around 2, i think. Not sure because i knocked the clock off the shelf by accident when i was trying to locate my water bottle (it was in the refrigerator) and now can't find one of the batteries.
Head Barbarian returned from the Land of Overnight Convenience Shopping at 6.03 in time to find me sitting on the edge of the bed, staring off into space. This apparently qualifies as 'awake' in Barbarian, because he said a bunch of words at me which my ears heard as, "Gruuuuh? Obbwob nooble fweepder micken." Or maybe it was "fweeped ermicken." I'll never know.
Then HE patted the cat and the cat purred and, lo, there were no fangs. Traitorous Fuzzbeast. Don't you know who organizes your food so you don't eat the same flavor 30 days in a row??? Then he chewed on me again, so I went to feed him (Fuzzbeast) and after i tripped over his lightning-cat quickness launching down the hallway to wait furrily near his food bowl, I tripped over the great Barbarian foot-coverings which were being secretly stored in the middle of the kitchen floor with their holy liners (socks, used). While I was there, I fought with the coffee pot so it would give forth the Nectar of Thinking until Fuzzbeast pointedly (ha ha, so punny) made me aware that he was still awaiting the Morning Feast. Finally took care of that without accidentally wearing any, poured my coffee and went back to sit in my bed to find, yes, the sprawling Head Barbarian wearing a hole in my side of the mattress eating toast off his chest while he played a video game with his work clothes and current pile of favorite crap other stuff strewn across his side of the bed.
As I was barely functioning, I went and stood in the mommy corner of my yard to enjoy the fragrant and noisome clashing and banging of the garbage truck emptying the dumpsters at the diner next door while i smoked a cigarette of irritation abeyance and gagged half the coffee down.
Then i plugged in the pool filter and removed the cover and went back inside to hear thematic variations on the concerto of "MOM!" "Mom?" "Moooooommmmmmmm!" "MOMMMMM" "Mom..." "Psst... Mom...." "MOM!!!" for several hours while the Head Barbarian slept. Around 10.45 I got to play fifteen minutes of uninterrupted Minecraft (which is not my favorite but who gets to play the good games in a room full of kids?) to the tune of loud and blatant complaining from the Medium Heathens because gods-of-whatever-realm-forbid i should be allowed to do ANYTHING besides try to clean over under around and through their hellacious continuous perpetuation of chaos or sit in a chair and stare off into space while they destroy the Known Universe because fuck summer vacation.
Take Small Almost-Heathen out in the yard to enjoy it before the sun is directly overhead while the mediums begin their daily mission to systematically vaporize their brain cells with various electronical impeti (alright now i'm just making words up), then go back in because she wants to draw, then get distracted by melted puddle of cat lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. Cat is Hot and Purrs at you Lovingly with those squinty 'i love you' eyes until you touch him, and then he bites you.
Now Small Almost-Heathen is going to watch mosogourmet and sweetambscookies on the YouTube network, so I clean out the refrigerator (who the frack put a cup of chocolate milk in here with a spoon in it so when the Heathens move stuff around - neverfuckingmind i already know the answer to that one and oh look, he exploded a can of soda in my freezer again, too).
They are all drooling, Heathens, Cat and Head Barbarian. I, on the other hand, am trying to make something that at least vaguely resembles food to shove between faces and screens but does not require the use of heat. Yogurt. Peanut Butter. Graham crackers. ... Sip coffee. Oh is that where I put that. Yuck. ... Bologna. Cheese. No bread. Head Barbarian melted the empty bag on to the toaster (oh ffs, really? again?). Grapes.
While I serve the food, Medium Boy Heathen makes himself a can of baked beans and I pry the cellphone and tablet from Medium Girl Heathen's screechy (Do you know the "DON'T YOU WANT ME TO HAVE FRIENDS???" song?) claws.
The Littlest Heathen practices her Barbarian birthright by voicing opinions about food ("I don't LIKE this. This is 'volting." "REvolting." "Yes. But these are okay can i have Lucky Charms?"). With this low of an approval rating, I'm definitely not going to be getting a tip. Medium Girl Heathen punctuates her pout and lament with bites of food. Demands cotton candy that Head Barbarian purchased, so Small Almost-Heathen of course takes up the cry. Medium Boy Heathen interjects opinions and parenting tips. Thank you, my darling Aspergerian Conquistador for your thoughtful contribution. Yes, i will take these things under consideration. No, I will not be serving the cotton candy. No. No. No. No. No, I will not. No. Ok, stop now. Don't lecture your sister, that's my job. No, you may not play video games again until this evening. No. No. Please stop asking. Okay I'm going outside for a minute to check the pool, everybody get suits on.
Go stand in the mommy corner. Smoke one cigarette of emotional de-escalation, and then smoke one cigarette of patience expansion. Go inside to use the bathroom. Head Barbarian is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring off into space. I say some things to him, which I'm sure resemble whatever he said to me this morning and are about as successfully translated.
Gather all people who want to be wet in the sun. Climb into pool in pyjamas because Girl-Heathens need a referee. Boy-Heathen does not like to put his head under water, so will not enter 20-inch deep x 8-feet across pool. It's crowded anyway. He is most likely looking up political facts and cat memes on the internet. Sometimes reverses facts and memes for variety. Call him out to ask Head Barbarian to bring towels because we forgot. Goes back and forth with messages three times before I finally scream in the window about Head Barbarian being the only one who can reach the fucking things (because his organizational skills are Impressive and Remarkable, as previously noted.) and would he please give them to the Medium Boy-Heathen to bring out because Small Almost-Heathen is cold now and would LIKE TO GET OUT OF THE POOL IF THAT'S ALL RIGHT WITH YOU.
Medium goes in and comes back with one towel, which i wrap around Small and squeeze as much water out of my clothing as possible before soaking my sneakers and sliding up the hallway and inside the apartment, and hair dripping over my face i see him in the same position he was in this morning on my side of the bed with a bowl of cocoa rice crispys on his chest and staring at the tv screen.
I do not lose it. I reach up into the closet, which movement catches his attention, and I grasp one towel and pull, bringing down everything from the shelf (including the fucking humidifier I have been looking for for two years) in a giant terrycloth avalanche. Now we know why I wanted him to be the one to do it.
I grab a second towel and go back outside listening to him say in his best Cowed Barbarian Voice, "I just needed a minute, I would have gotten it," but it's too late now, don't speak to me.
On the plus side, I have also magically discovered the motherlode of missing dish towels. And I think I saw my third pair of shorts. Hmmm. It might have been smart to grab those. Oh well, too late now.
Everybody out of the pool and now they're all bored AND I won't let them play any video games, because fuck you, read a book. We only have about 30,000 of the fricking things, go ahead and use one.
I leave the house for thirty seconds to buy a roll of toilet paper because someone didn't bring it home with them, and when I come back they are all playing video games or cellphone selfy or YouTuberousAnonymination and Head Barbarian tells me all about how when they're done, he's going to make sure I get to sit down and do something JUST for ME and WITHOUT INTERRUPTION.
At which point Small Almost-Heathen asks me to help her draw and I spend two hours spelling words for her to write a story and make a book. Which is why she's Almost and not fully vested. Then I cook dinner. Then Head Barbarian relinquishes his death grip on the console controller and goes to work. Then I fight with Medium Girl-Heathen about getting off the damn phone, get Small to go to sleep, shut off and clean my coffee maker and sit down on his bread crumbs so i can write this shit down - and tip over the cereal bowl he left on the bed.
Good thing he picked up those towels.
Submitted July 09, 2016 at 07:39AM by OneGrumpyMother http://ift.tt/29D7VSx breakingmom
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