Hey there, whatcha working on? Expense reports? Oh, really they’re due in an hour? Well, I should let you get back to work, I just needed my third cup of coffee — it is 8 a.m., right? You know me, Java Jenny, needs her caffeine fix from the ol’ bean juice. Guilty!
Whew, well this morning was a doozey. Saffron and Gabriel would just not get out of bed! And this is just a never-ending battle with these two; I’ve already gotten four notices about Gabriel’s tardiness. Of course, he doesn’t care; Mr. Man thinks he can just charm his way out of any situation with that killer smile and those baseball biceps. And I tell him, that’s not gonna work on the SATs, buddy! So, he tells me he’s not going to college, because a bachelor’s degree is just an invoice for $100,000 of debt. I mean whaddya say to that, right? He’s such a free bird; sometimes I think maybe he just gets it.
But still they have to go to school, right? The last thing I need is to have some truancy officers busting into my laundry room like CSI and dragging me away in shackles, while his highness keeps yelling from the bathroom: “do I have any clean undershirts?” I swear, if that man ever learned how to fold a hand towel and PUT IT AWAY, I would probably drop dead right there — on the linoleum floor that he’s been promising to replace for about a hundred years. And then when the newspaper came the photographer would catch me in all my glory, face down in the laundry basket. The headline would say “Woman dies in hamper while son earns fifth tardy!” I’m such a hoot!
Oh before I forget, you’ll love this one, Diamond Dancer stole a sugar cookie that Saffron left out on the table yesterday. That dog was so wired, she started running all around my kitchen and knocked over my entire tray of pesto lasagna. And of course, Bob’s whole family was coming over in about twenty minutes, and I hadn’t even vacuumed! So I just picked it up off the floor and put it on the platter—and they ate it! That’s the funny part. But I’m like that, you know, I really am. It really is the inmates running the asylum most days. And I’m the biggest nutcase of all, but I guess that’s what makes me, me.
I should let you get back to work though, and stop boring you with my wacky life! I swear we should be a sitcom. Of course, most of this stuff is even too crazy for T.V. Last week, I could not get Saffron out of the shower for anything—so I flushed the toilet on her! But that’s just me; I guess I’ll never be PTA president now, right? Oh boy, sometimes I honestly wonder what the neighbors think. I mean we haven’t even taken down our Christmas decorations from last year. And it’s October! And we’re Jewish!
Bob says we should just leave all our decorations up all year ‘round because that’s the only way we’ll ever get them up on time. See what I put up with? This is why I need my ladies’ nights out with the girls—we’re so bad. It’s like I always say though: what happens at Applebee’s stays at Applebee’s! Last time, it was Debbie’s birthday, so we each drank an extra Wild berry Margarita. And I stabbed a busboy in the neck with a butter knife. We’re such screwballs! I think I’m fun-loving in that ageless kind of way.
Well, like you’ve been saying, you have a ton of work to do—so long story long—I had to get the kids out of bed this morning and Bob was, of course, nowhere to be found. He’s been taking the 6:30 train these days, so he’s out early. And that’s the way I like it, keep that man out of my hair as much as possible, right? I’m so happily married, yet so untamable. Ack!
So, I’m calling and calling the kids to breakfast. They both have alarm clocks mind you, and the cell phones in the bed—don’t even get me started on that. Finally, I went into their rooms, because this is just the ongoing saga. Gabriel will just sit up like he’s awake until I go back downstairs—then he’s out again. He can sleep through anything, even gunfire. When I try to wake up Saffron she just shrieks like a banshee—another one who’s not a morning person. Wonder where she gets it, right?
Well, I had to leave for work, and their bus was coming in about thirty seconds—so I just set the house on fire. I literally ignited the second story of my house in flames with several well-place Molotov cocktails. I’ve had it up to here with the tardiness, and we are not having a repeat of the “sophomore year fiasco”. Sounds kooky I know, but that’s just me being real, I guess. But I’ll tell you, I’ve never seen those kids move so quickly in their lives. And they made that bus too.
Well, I’ll let you go, before I keep yammering on with another of my “Linda stories”. They’re so entertaining, yet a little bit edgy—kind of like Medium. But really, I’ve got a lot of work to get done today too, and I have to pick up Diamond Dancer from the groomer on my way home. Also, I have to pitch a tent in the yard before dark—that is if I can find any of our camping equipment in that labyrinth of a garage. Other than that Mrs. Lincoln how’d you like the play, right?
Laura Jayne Martin lives and writes in New York City. She is not available for children's birthday parties.
The Humor Section features a piece of original humor writing each week. To submit to it, send an email to Becca O'Neal.