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Thursday, September 22, 2016

Hiding from the Children

Photo by Alexandru Panoiu
      I am hiding in my bedroom from my children.
Well, from two of the three. The youngest is downstairs holding the TV remote like it’s My Precious and stretching her little body as far as possible in every direction to maximize her enjoyment of the entire sofa all by herself.
That’s until her two older siblings, who just started attending the same middle school, arrive home. Any minute now.
Which is why I’m hiding.
Oh my Hand-Me-the-Vodka gosh. They walk in the door every afternoon like a couple of five-foot-something tornadoes full of p*ss, vinegar, and whatever the Wicked Witch of the West’s mangy cat barfed into her shoes. Because they have to ride the bus together, and neither one of them is physically or psychologically able to just freaking ignore the other one.
So they stomp the two blocks home, both trying to get here first to regale at me the unforgivably heinous crimes of the other.
Given the opportunity either would gleefully sell his/her sibling to any random passerby, like Joseph’s brothers who faked his death and hawked him off to Egyptian slave-traders. I don’t think that’s hyperbole. At all.
I had to hide from them for a while back in their elementary school days, too. I’d escort them home from the bus, then excuse myself to go powder my nose. If one of them came looking for me too soon, I’d yell, “You don’t want to come near this bathroom. Trust me. I had a broccoli and jalapeño burrito for lunch.”
I could usually catch up on a few games of Words With Friends while I was in there.
Back then I hid because all three of them fought to talk to me first and loudest and longest. They had stuff to say, and by the skin of their siblings’ chinny-chin-chins (or whatever other skin they could get a swipe at) no one was getting between them and the mom.
It only took a couple of weeks of me sequestered in the bathroom to reset the after-school reintegration into the home. Once they got used to Mother being unavailable during snack, they forgot about the whole competition for my attention. I could then divide and conquer, spending a few minutes alone with each one at my leisure and discretion.
So here we are, five years later, revisiting the same state of affairs.
I read once that children’s behavior as toddlers previews their conduct as teenagers.
Dear God. Please. No mas.
Anyway, yesterday was the first day I hied myself out of Dodge when they came home. I faked napping up in my bedroom. One peeked in, then gingerly closed the door and backed away. They have learned well that no one will be happy for a very long time if Mama gets un-hibernated early.
So yesterday afternoon went swimmingly. They didn’t even talk to each other after they got home.
Sweet.
Okay. I just heard the door. They’re here.
ZzzzzzZZZzzzzZZZZZZzzzzz.

     (Hey! I found a seven-letter word in my tray! A-B-Y-S-M-A-L. That’ll play right here next to P-A-R-E-N-T…)

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1 comment:

  1. There's going to be #%&@! to pay once the kids start reading your Blogs. Ha!

    ReplyDelete