I was grocery shopping with all three of the darlings this
week. Madpeople, I’m getting so good at
this. A man even stopped us to comment
that it was nice to see a mom shopping with her kids and not looking completely
frazzled and bent, but instead laughing and being happy and calm. My response was to laugh. I clearly remember blogging about being
completely overwhelmed and fighting with assholes in the store last year. I think it took me a solid year and a half to
get used to being a single mom.
When we arrived at the display which holds the hummus and
cheese, I reached down and pulled out a tub of hummus, and checked the date as
I normally do. Good till July 5,
2013. Immediately an electrical shock
ran through me and I felt my asshole quiver.
D=Day. Son.Of.A.Bitch.
I’ll count this as my first warning that D-Day is fast
approaching, no matter what I do.
There’s no stopping the calendar.
The arrival of June brings our wedding anniversary, Father’s Day, Dave’s
birthday, and then D-Day…all in a span of 30 days. On my next shopping excursion I need to buy
some big girl panties to get ready for the onslaught. Maybe this year
I’ll go for a nice thong. I’ma try not
to wear depends and be in the fetal position with a pack of lit cigarettes in
my mouth and one of those silly drinking hats on…you know the kind that holds a
gallon of Tito’s vodka and has two straws going directly into your word hole?
Yesterday I was lying on the bed with the littlest
darling. He’s so insanely cute that I
was trying to figure out how to just eat him up. I was tickling him and he was laughing the
cutest laugh that has ever fallen over the earth. Then all of sudden “Dave” flashed across my
mind. It was intense. I quickly pushed it away, as I am so good at
doing. I didn’t skip a beat….I said
nothing….just kept laughing and tickling.
In that instant baby darling went from laughing to crying. Just
like that. I scooped him up and
asked him what was wrong. “I miss daddy” he cried. Shivers.
The veil was lifted for an instant.
We are still too wounded.
The two littles are already done with school, and big
darling has only a couple days left. I’m
so excited to spend summer with these boys.
Please remind me of this in August when I am lamenting that I haven’t
had four minutes to myself in three solid months and I am mere seconds away
from clawing my hair out and running wildly down the street while babbling
incoherently. At the very least, remind
me to drink more or get a prescription for medical marijuana.
In other news, I stepped on a dead rat while barefoot the
other day. Actually, it was just the rat
head and tail, the middle part of the body must’ve gotten eaten. I realize this will cause many of you to
believe that I live in a garbage dump. I
swear I don’t. I had to quickly spray
bleach on the bottom of my foot. Then I
had to pick up the body parts and throw them away. Ya hurd me?
I had to handle a fucking rat. Big darling assisted for moral support
and to hold the flashlight. I put my
hand inside three plastic bags and picked it up like I see people doing when
their dogs shit in my yard. Through
three bags, I could still feel the squishy-ness of the rat flesh. Through three bags I still thought I could
feel some moist rat guts. I will never
get used to doing that kind of thing, and I will curse Dave like a motherfucker
every time.
As soon as I walked inside I found baby darling in the
bathroom wiping his own ass. Why does baby darling think he’s an ass
wiper? He’s always thought he was
one. When middle darling used to yell
for me to come wipe him, I would have to sprint really fast to the bathroom in
order to beat baby darling there. I
would usually enter to find him running towards the soiled ass with a piece of
toilet paper the size of a dime.
