Miss C is officially hooked on infomercials.
After getting some Blendipens and Bendaroos for Christmas, for which I had to take up a Master's in Engineering to figure out, she is convinced that these are life changing items.
If by life changing you mean the guy from the Shamwow looks like Gollum and that can be a life changing experience, since you don't wanna purchase towels from a goblin who was obsessed with a ring..
Yeah, I guess.
She insists I get the Spacebags and is totally convinced that all I need in my life right now is a Snuggie.
Because you know, reading and balancing an oh-so slippery blanket is a tricky task. Especially if you have just showered in olive oil.
The Snuggies are my favorite. You know, the people who go out to the sports games looking like monks or people in line waiting to get their degree.
No more cold feet for me...no more complicated socks or pants for the cold.
A Snuggie is just the option, especially if that nasty remote control always gets in your way.
What Miss C especially loves is the "Wait there is more".
I mean, who doesn't? Who doesn't love a free bargain, an extra, a bonus?
"Miss C's mom, her therapies are all set...but wait there is more...you won't have to come into this office to file a complaint EVER again".
Now, that's a bargain.
Miss C somehow thinks that the free reading light that comes with the Snuggies is just right for me.
"Momma, so you can see better, don't ya think?"
Honey, I just spent $400 on a pair of glasses, I think the whole "seeing better" issue is resolved.
But I admire her hope, her innocence, and her ability to believe in anything and in anyone. That hope and lack of doubt that glows from her insides. Even when she screams that we should get that scissor that cuts pennies in half and I try miserably to explain we are in no condition to due such atrocious thing.
We need all the Lincoln's we can get...especially if we want that new Slider Station from Billy Mays....
I just saw a convertible BMW with it's top down.
The license plates were from out of town.
Anchorage, Alaska to be exact.
A convertible from Alaska.
Call me a little delusional, but I think there is a father at school who is checking me out.
One of those midlife fathers, who drives a sports car and always drives up just as the bell rings and I’m exiting out of the gate.
Let me just add: Ewwww
He’s one of those dad’s who had dedicated the later part of his life to make sure his torso is bigger than his head and that he won’t be able to put his arms side by side because of the size of his “guns”. He also has a punk haircut with blonde frosted tips.
Adding again: Double Eww
He eyeballs me as soon as he sees me and gives me his best: “I could rock your world baby smile”.
I try not to attack him with some Ms Clairol number #2 in dark adult male black.
I wanna scream out to him “What part of me screams out mid life crisis lover?”
So I try to zoom by as fast as I can and try to get in my car to put a abrupt end to his eagle eye.
Sometimes I just wish he were staring because I have some odd stain on my blouse, but is it not the case.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, a small particle of me or of any woman would feel slightly flattered that out of all the mom’s there, because let me tell ya, it looks like a fashion show in the mornings at that there school, someone puts an eye on ya…kinda feels nice.
I said “Kinda”.
Cause I’m not interested. He looks like Malibu Ken and we all know that poor Ken is anatomically incorrect. Very incorrect indeed.
So we've been having trouble with Miss C. School troubles.
After a month without school or therapy structure, she obviously was a tad haywire the first few days of school. Screaming, kicking, crying, begging for her mom.
After the third day back, her teacher called.
When she calls, it's not good.
She can never call to give good news, it's always "Um..hello Miss C's mom...she just stabbed a child in the cafeteria, but don't get too worried".
Or something like that.
So there she was calling. Miss C was upset, I could hear her screaming.
The teacher went on about how worried she is for her well being and then hit me with this:
"Is there anything going on in the home that we should know about? Anything wrong?"
"No. We are a happy little routine family. Me and the kid, no one else, nothing else, why would there something wrong in MY neck of the woods".
"Well, because it is not normal for Miss to have this behavior this far along in the school year, we had already gotten a hold of her behavior."
"Well, let's recap, shall we. Her main problem is her obsessive hold on routine. Her need to have everything planned out for her. Her need of control, of the same thing everyday. They had school vacations for about a month and half, with toys, no teachers, no schoolwork, Miss C had major mommy time and now she's back to school, on a Tuesday, no less, thrust back into school, into the peer pressure to be good, to be "normal" and you people ask me what is wrong in MY house?? You can't expect her to fit in right away. Your goals are way to unrealistic and then you call me every five mintues while I'm at work, with a screaming child in the background and expect me to DO something. You people are the professionals and you've had her since August and still can't manage her. Then you have to rethink your strategies."
What I got from her was silence.
She apologized and hung up.
The kid came home and was punished with no TV. It hurt like hell. She cried. She apologized and I told her that apologizing wasn't enough.
"But momma, I don't know any other word to tell you it was my fault".
I had to hug her. Because kid, deep down, I feel that we are the ones that have to adjust to you and not vice versa.
If I only had a magic wand.