We recently
celebrated our eight year anniversary. No small feat
considering the six small feet that are constantly in
between us! With three children under the age of 7,
quality grown up time is always at a minimum. However, our
anniversaries are very important to my husband and I.
They are always made up of a wonderful
restaurant, a glorious bottle of wine, some fabulous
cuisine and quiet conversation as we reminisce on where we
have been and how far we have come. As our actual date
landed on a Friday, we had decided to go out on Saturday
night, so he would not be rushed coming from work, TGIF
traffic, etc. Would not want him to be all stressed on our
big evening out, right? HA!
The phone rang at 4:30pm on Friday
afternoon. It was my wonderful, darling, handsome husband.
"Do you think we could go out tonight instead of tomorrow
night?" Sucking in all the air within a 5 mile radius in
order to stay calm, I replied, "WHY?", although the
response IN my head was more like, "?$^$%?WHY$#%?". "
Well, Marianne (our wonderful surrogate
grandmother/babysitter) might not be able to watch them
tomorrow night."
Barometers must have plummeted in
southern California as I inhaled deeply to ask the next
question. "So, what time would our reservations be?" He
cheerfully responded, "7pm. Marianne can watch the kids at
her house. I'll meet you there at 6pm, ok?" I have no
memory of saying anything further or of actually hanging
up the phone. On a good traffic day, Marianne is 25
minutes away, on a FRIDAY NIGHT IN RUSH HOUR SHE IS
$%$&^%^%!!!!! Let's put it this way, I had 40 minutes till
we would have to hit the minivan. <continued below>
What followed next is a testament to the
power of a Mother. Thoughts quickly lined up in my head
... food, children, hair, make-up, clothes, diapers."
Food? Pasta. I was literally stripping in the kitchen as I
put water on to boil. I took the stairs to my room two at
a time, as I shouted the plans to my children, who were of
course, thrilled. Facing myself in the bathroom mirror, I
was miles away from "hot date" material. I had spent the
day cleaning toilets, scrubbing floors, and I had sweated
for 30 minutes on my treadmill during naptime. I smelled
like Mr. Clean... Mr. Clean's armpits, that is. No time
for a shower. BABY WIPES! After a quick, vigorous rubdown,
I now smelled Powder Fresh and protected by aloe &
lanolin. Back to the kitchen, Itossed the tortellini into
the water, set the timer for 4 minutes and hit the stairs
once more,shouting additional instructions to the kids.
A quick wash of my face, and I deftly
reapplied mymake-up ... as deftly as one can in 2.4
minutes. Ripping the clip from my hair, I mentally thanked
God for my curls. An upside down pick and refluff, back
into a clip and spray. As a sprang to my closet, my one
thought was BLACK. Grabbing hose, bra, pants, sparkly
shirt and shoes, I threw it all on my bed and began to
dress. BEEEEEEEEEP!!!! Down the stairs I raced. Had my
neighbors peeked into my windows, I must have made quite a
sight, draining pasta clad only in hose and a bra. Canned
sauce, three bowls, slop, slop, slop. "DINNERRRRR", I
screamed. (Time now? 4:53pm) Threatened with no
Nickelodeon for a month, they began to eat. I scaled Mt.
Staircase, and in less than 5 minutes had dressed,
accessorized and brushed my teeth. I rappelled back down
Mt. Staircase to find my 2 year old looking like a pig in
tomato slop.
Knowing full well they would eat a
year's supply of garbage at Marianne's, I declared dinner
over.
Miraculously, we were in the minivan by
5:15pm. As I revved the engine, a bell informed me that I
HAD NO GAS! #$#$%$#!!!!!!! A trip to the nearest gas
station, pumping in all my sparkly glory and we were on
our way .... no where. Traffic, interstate, 5:30pm,
Friday. You do the math. We finally arrived at 6:15pm. As
she opened the door, I caught sight of Mr. GQ, relaxing in
an easy chair, enjoying the news.
On our way to dinner, he told me how
beautiful I looked, how lucky he was, how much he loved
me. I did not respond. As I was apparently tense and
stressed, he finally asked what my problem was. Looking
back, there are many ways I could have answered. Lovingly,
tenderly, or I could have hollered, been a shrew. No.
Being a firm believer that actions DO
speak louder than words, I simply punched him in the nose.
Happy Anniversary, my love.
Linda Sharp is an internationally published humorist,
appearing regularly in publications from Canada to New
Zealand, as well as many parenting websites. She is also
co-creator of the totally irreverent and hilarious Sanity
Central—A Time Out From Parenting. As a mother of three
children (4 if you count her husband ), she firmly
believes that laughter IS the best medicine.
Email the author.
Visit her site.
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