My Crotch Is Soaking Wet But I Am Blessed...
Friday Morning 8:00 am...
Out-Numbered - Come on guys. We need to move it today.
8 Year Old - I can't find my boots!
Out-Numbered - I don't know what to tell you baby but you need to hurry up.
3 Year Old - Daddy?
Out-Numbered - What now sweetheart?
3 Year Old - I don't know where my other sock are?
Out-Numbered - You don't know where your other sock is?
3 Year Old - I just said that!
8 Year Old - Daddy?
Out-Numbered - Oh God. What?
8 Year Old - I think I left my raincoat at school.
Out-Numbered - Well you're gonna get soaked, cause it's raining buckets out there.
3 Year Old - Where? I wanna see!
8 Year Old - Well I'm not going to school then.
Out-Numbered - Honey please. I still need to feed your pet lizard.
3 Year Old - Daddy?
Out-Numbered - WHAT?
3 Year Old - I don't see any buckets.
Out-Numbered - Baby. If you don't get your socks on, you're going to school barefoot.
3 Year Old - NOOOOOOO!
Out-Numbered - I'm going outside to get the crickets for Cookie Monster.
8 Year Old - I'm not going to school without a raincoat.
I walk outside. There is torrential rain.
Out-Numbered - Fuck me.
The cricket tank is filled with water. They are all dead. I walk back inside. I am soaking wet.
Out-Numbered - They are all dead.
8 Year Old - Who?
Out-Numbered - The crickets.
8 Year Old - Why are you soaking wet?
3 Year Old - I FOUND MY SOCK!
Out-Numbered - Great baby. Now hurry up and put it on. We have to go.
8 Year Old - But what about Cookie Monster.
Out-Numbered - What about him?
8 Year Old - We have to feed him.
Out-Numbered - He'll be fine.
8 Year Old - I'm not going to school unless we feed him.
Out-Numbered - Dude. He's a lizard. He'll survive.
8 Year Old - Would you let me go to school without breakfast?
Out-Numbered - No. Help yourself to some dead crickets.
8 Year Old - Your not funny.
Out-Numbered - If you're not dressed in the next 2 minutes, you're gonna go to school in your pajamas.
8 Year Old - OK! FINE!
We all scurry around gathering our belongings.
Out-Numbered - Does everyone have everything?
Both - Yes.
Out-Numbered - OK. When we get outside, I'm gonna open the umbrella.
8 Year Old - I want to hold the umbrella!
3 Year Old - NO! I WANT TO HOLD IT!
8 Year Old - Give it to me stupid!
3 Year Old - AHHHHHH!
Out-Numbered - Seriously?
3 Year Old - It's not fair. I want to hold it.
Out-Numbered - You're two feet tall. How are you going to keep us dry?
8 Year Old - Yeah stupid.
Out-Numbered - Stop it. Now everyone stay close to me and under the umbrella.
We walk to the car at the pace of a mangled possum, hit by a car on the freeway, struggling to pull himself to the side of the road.
Out-Numbered - Guys. We need to move. I'm getting drenched.
8 Year Old - I can't. She keeps stepping on my foot.
3 Year Old - Stop telling on me.
8 Year Old - Then move already. You're like a snail.
3 Year Old - I DON'T look like a snail!
8 Year Old - God, you're such an idiot.
Out-Numbered - THAT'S ENOUGH!!!
We finally get into the car. They are dry as a bone and I am wetter than Phoebe Cates, fresh out of Judge Reinhold's pool.
8 Year Old - That was fun!
In the car. Out of the car. In the car. Out of the car. In the car. Out of the car. I finally get them both to school.
As I walk to the train, my crotch, among other things, is soaking wet. But particularly my crotch. I wonder if they will have paper towels on the train, so I can dry my crotch. I can't sit for an hour on the train with a wet crotch. I don't deserve this. I am a good person.
As I approach the platform, my mind wanders. I start to daydream about my oldest daughter. I picture us sitting on the couch in our den. She must be about 13 years old. Our lizard is fully grown and she holds him on her lap. Without warning, he poops on her shirt and she screams. I look at at her and she looks at me and we start laughing uncontrollably. I feel stronger when I hear her laughter; like I'm invincible.
I am startled out of my daydream by the sudden rumbling sound of the oncoming train.
I smile to myself and think for a moment about my wet crotch and how it doesn't matter.
It hardly seems to matter...
8 Year Old - I can't find my boots!
Out-Numbered - I don't know what to tell you baby but you need to hurry up.
3 Year Old - Daddy?
Out-Numbered - What now sweetheart?
3 Year Old - I don't know where my other sock are?
Out-Numbered - You don't know where your other sock is?
3 Year Old - I just said that!
8 Year Old - Daddy?
Out-Numbered - Oh God. What?
8 Year Old - I think I left my raincoat at school.
Out-Numbered - Well you're gonna get soaked, cause it's raining buckets out there.
3 Year Old - Where? I wanna see!
8 Year Old - Well I'm not going to school then.
Out-Numbered - Honey please. I still need to feed your pet lizard.
3 Year Old - Daddy?
Out-Numbered - WHAT?
3 Year Old - I don't see any buckets.
Out-Numbered - Baby. If you don't get your socks on, you're going to school barefoot.
3 Year Old - NOOOOOOO!
Out-Numbered - I'm going outside to get the crickets for Cookie Monster.
8 Year Old - I'm not going to school without a raincoat.
I walk outside. There is torrential rain.
Out-Numbered - Fuck me.
The cricket tank is filled with water. They are all dead. I walk back inside. I am soaking wet.
Out-Numbered - They are all dead.
8 Year Old - Who?
Out-Numbered - The crickets.
8 Year Old - Why are you soaking wet?
3 Year Old - I FOUND MY SOCK!
Out-Numbered - Great baby. Now hurry up and put it on. We have to go.
8 Year Old - But what about Cookie Monster.
Out-Numbered - What about him?
8 Year Old - We have to feed him.
Out-Numbered - He'll be fine.
8 Year Old - I'm not going to school unless we feed him.
Out-Numbered - Dude. He's a lizard. He'll survive.
8 Year Old - Would you let me go to school without breakfast?
Out-Numbered - No. Help yourself to some dead crickets.
8 Year Old - Your not funny.
Out-Numbered - If you're not dressed in the next 2 minutes, you're gonna go to school in your pajamas.
8 Year Old - OK! FINE!
We all scurry around gathering our belongings.
Out-Numbered - Does everyone have everything?
Both - Yes.
Out-Numbered - OK. When we get outside, I'm gonna open the umbrella.
8 Year Old - I want to hold the umbrella!
3 Year Old - NO! I WANT TO HOLD IT!
8 Year Old - Give it to me stupid!
3 Year Old - AHHHHHH!
Out-Numbered - Seriously?
3 Year Old - It's not fair. I want to hold it.
Out-Numbered - You're two feet tall. How are you going to keep us dry?
8 Year Old - Yeah stupid.
Out-Numbered - Stop it. Now everyone stay close to me and under the umbrella.
We walk to the car at the pace of a mangled possum, hit by a car on the freeway, struggling to pull himself to the side of the road.
Out-Numbered - Guys. We need to move. I'm getting drenched.
8 Year Old - I can't. She keeps stepping on my foot.
3 Year Old - Stop telling on me.
8 Year Old - Then move already. You're like a snail.
3 Year Old - I DON'T look like a snail!
8 Year Old - God, you're such an idiot.
Out-Numbered - THAT'S ENOUGH!!!
We finally get into the car. They are dry as a bone and I am wetter than Phoebe Cates, fresh out of Judge Reinhold's pool.
8 Year Old - That was fun!
In the car. Out of the car. In the car. Out of the car. In the car. Out of the car. I finally get them both to school.
As I walk to the train, my crotch, among other things, is soaking wet. But particularly my crotch. I wonder if they will have paper towels on the train, so I can dry my crotch. I can't sit for an hour on the train with a wet crotch. I don't deserve this. I am a good person.
As I approach the platform, my mind wanders. I start to daydream about my oldest daughter. I picture us sitting on the couch in our den. She must be about 13 years old. Our lizard is fully grown and she holds him on her lap. Without warning, he poops on her shirt and she screams. I look at at her and she looks at me and we start laughing uncontrollably. I feel stronger when I hear her laughter; like I'm invincible.
I am startled out of my daydream by the sudden rumbling sound of the oncoming train.
I smile to myself and think for a moment about my wet crotch and how it doesn't matter.
It hardly seems to matter...
Wait, so you are going to let Cookie Monster die? PETA is going to hear about this!
ReplyDelete"at the pace of a mangled possum" excellent visual...laughed out loud.
ReplyDeleteSuch a cool, honest post. And you're right, who cares of your crotch is wet.
ReplyDeleteYour wet crotch, it's probably the death juice of the crickets because you let them drown, it's ok to feed them to Cookie Monster.You didn't feed cookie monster. You are so doomed .. ( stay dry you guys on the east coast !)
ReplyDeleteYou said Phoebe Cates.
ReplyDeleteYou need a garage, for your car and for your cricket keeper.
ReplyDeleteMy 21 month old walks around with a self-imposed wet crotch all the time.He dumps out his water every chance he gets. Maybe it's nice when you get used to it?
ReplyDelete::sound of dead crickets::
ReplyDeleteGreat post. And you are right. You don't deserve a wet crotch.
ReplyDeleteReading your post reminded me I ran over a skunk on Friday.
ReplyDeleteJust so you know.
mangled possum!!! hysterical! great visual! i saw u guys every step of the way . YUV!!!
ReplyDeleteThank you. I needed the laugh today as work and motherhood are kicking my ass.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant. And, creepily familiar sounding as the type of conversation that goes on in my house. ("Would you let me go to school without breakfast?")
ReplyDeletePhoebe Cates, holy crap there is an 80s flashback!
ReplyDeleteThe snail thing sounds like my nephews. Freakishly so...
Actually, cricket soup might hit the spot on a rainy day. You know, if you're a lizard.
ReplyDeleteExcellent story. I can visualize all of you during this episode. Yes, you're right, when putting everything in perspective, I'll take laughter over a wet crotch, among many other things, any time.
ReplyDeleteits realy nice post.
ReplyDeleteAwwwww, I love this :) Your kids sound absolutely adorable. I can't believe you killed the crickets! :p
ReplyDeleteOh My...I guess that's why I never had kids.
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