"Mom, how does the Tooth Fairy fly through the air?"
"How do YOU think?"
"I think moms do it."
"Ah."
"But how can a Mom be a Tooth Fairy?"
"Good moms are lots of things, Princess."
"OH."

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Dear Saturday,

I've been wracking my mind for weeks trying to think of what I might have done in the past few years to offend you. We used to get along together so well. You used to let me sleep late. You used to give me peace and quiet while I had a cup of coffee. You used to fill my day with peace and relaxation.

What happened between us?

It is 10:00. In the morning. Already, I hear Princess's "crazy voice" wafting out of her room. The "crazy voice" signifies that she has already run out of ways to amuse herself. It is 10 a.m. As I walk the hallways (ok, hallway, singular), I see ONE toy left laying out, ONE sock not put in the laundry box, ONE spoon left on the table. Why, Saturday, why must you torture me with purposeful undoneness today? We have the whole rest of the week...

It is 10:30. In the morning. Oh dear, I see Princess's head cocked as I discuss making second grade bake sale items with Buddy. Wait for it, yes, now I hear the distinct noises of dog torment. Could you not protect me from jealousy pay-back this one day, Saturday? Really, what would it cost you?

Truly. We've talked about this before. You KNOW how I crave one. stinking. day in which I do not have to structure every available microsecond of free time. You KNOW how I would like to sit down on the sofa and read a book without the Cuddle Bear radar finding out and pelting me with four thousand questions about how Spider Man operates and what sort of motives he may have. You KNOW how my ears crave a void in which there is no Peanut "the Cuddle Bear just stabbed me with her pirate sword for NO REASON!!!!!*" screams. You KNOW these things?

Why? Why do you hate me, Saturday?

Sincerely,
Kerrie



P.S. The snow is a bit over the top, don't you think?







* "NO REASON!!!!" is secret code for "I grabbed her toy out of her hand, hit her with it, and then spit in her hair and ran away." In case you weren't familiar with the language.

3 comments:

  1. Saturday's used to be my friend too. I miss her. :(

    ReplyDelete
  2. You just need new friends, like Door Alarm, and Dry Martini. That Saturday--she stabs everyone in the back.

    ReplyDelete