August 15, 2012
Life in the Fish Tank
In a fit of desperate laziness yesterday, I declared that all the boys and I should snuggle up on the couch to watch some tv. This is after I forbid them from watching tv at least 9 times throughout the day. The last two weeks of summer has caused them to really start pushing the limits with me. This, in turn, is causing me to start using creative curse words. We need to do this 4 way snuggling way more often. Like way more. For starters, we need to practice how we can all lay comfortably with everyone still touching the mommy person in some way. They spent the first 20 minutes squirming themselves into more coveted positions, easing others out of the better positions, all the while elbowing me and pinching me until I was bruised. I made only silent screams and lost my breath several times, because I didn’t even want them to know they were hurting me, so happy was I to have them all over me. One on one snuggling is good and we do that often as I make my rounds making sure everyone is fat and happy. But dog piles are just heavenly.
We settled on a show I’ve never seen called “Tanked.” It’s the show about these guys who build incredibly awesome custom aquariums. The guys on the show are ok and entertaining enough, the women were annoying and made me want to punch them. One of them is way too pointy. (Pernty. More yat talk.) Anyway, we enjoyed snuggle time and last night I had an aquarium dream, which I’m pretty sure just basically sums up my life.
In the dream, we had a fish tank. It didn’t appear incredibly beautiful and breathtaking like on the show, but I knew it was all those things, and more. I was proud of the tank. I didn’t care what anyone thought. Didn’t care if anyone else thought the tank was beautiful. The boys knew the tank was awesome too. They loved it. We all cared for the tank together. One day I walked in to find that all the fish were floating and gasping for breath, with eyes popping out of their heads. I realized immediately this had been going on a long time, and I might be too late to save them. Panic ensued. We were running out of time. The fish were dying. What the fuck was wrong? I frantically started trying to do all these different things, to no avail. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I heroically drug the tank to another electrical outlet. I was superwoman. I did it with ease, without even thinking about it. The weight was not an issue. I plugged the tank into the socket, and realized there was a problem with the prongs. They weren’t normal. They were too short. They weren’t coming into contact with the electricity. It was then that I noticed there was a reset button on the plug, which would correct the problem and somehow lengthen the prongs. I quickly pressed the button, the prongs shot out to normal length, and the tank started bubbling and providing oxygen. Within minutes all the fish were alive, except one. I couldn’t believe the rest had held on; they were going to make it. I worried that they might live for a few hours or even days, and then die. I knew they had probably sustained way too much damage to heal completely. But that wasn’t the case. They all survived. The tank was awesome again, and I was amazed and so thankful.
I woke up this morning to the two little darlings fighting in my bed. It’s housekeeper day, and I’m feeling like I’ve won the lottery because school starts for the two big darlings tomorrow. So we’ll be all neat and tidy and OCD all day….and will hopefully end the day snuggled up again just in time for those dreams about being naked in the hall of your high school, unable to remember the combination to your locker, without the books that you need to take your final that started 5 minutes ago.
- ► 2013 (20)
- ▼ August 2012 (6)