At least once a year I go all out with my domestic goddess
bit.
Father’s day is no exception. I make homemade millefeuille,
I make a nice brunch of cheese dreams, and I wash all the sheets even though
they were washed last week to smell the lemony freshness. I start folding and
organizing and trying to enjoy this stuff that seems to come naturally to so
many women I know.
A today I was rather enjoying it. My millefeuilles
Saturday night were a huge success with the full lobster dinner. This morning I
had my daughter by my side happily chopping up onions and bacon for our cheeses
dreams. While it was all cooking I decided to throw on a load of laundry-humming
to myself. I felt like a normal lady. A normal woman. I mean I was even humming
for crying out loud!.
And I thought-“this is actually ok. I am actually ok at
this.”
And then I hear the fire alarm go off and the alarm company
calls. Jesus why every time I cook does something have to friggin burn? I mean
are we ladies supposed to sit beside the oven and watch it every second or
something? Is there no multitasking allowed in this domesticity? I simply don’t
get it.
Then about 20 minutes later the washing machine starts
going crazy and vibrating and shaking and the full bottle of detergent from
COSTCO falls off of it and onto the floor and there is a huge soapy mess! Did this
ever occur to me when I did not screw the cap on tightly enough that my machine
was a beast?
So of course instead of my family thinking I am a
domestic goddess (which I really was today)-they think “there goes mommy
messing it all up again in the house when she attempts some of these regular
tasks.”
My husband truly was not joking when he said that if he
wants to hide something from me all he needs to of it put it in the washing machine.
One can be assured that if my husband is cheating on me I will not be going through
his pockets when I wash his pants. He is lucky if I pick up his pants from the
drycleaner to be honest. I actually think my eldest son has not washed his
uniform school pant all year-and sadly I don’t even think this is a joke.
Anyways my cheese dreams were really really yummy even if they
were black on the bottom. I wasn’t too offended that most people just ate what
was on top and left the bread for the garbage. And my laundry really did smell
good-and so did the whole basement given that the floors had tons of lemon soap
on them.
I was just so aggravated...I mean how hard it it to juts
pretend you are domestic for a day? Am I an idio savant or something? I mean I
was even bloody humming and actually getting some pleasure from all of this.
Can't I be rewarded for that at least?
And then our lawn mower broke today (not my fault thank
god) and then for some reason I just got really overwhelmed by the amount of dishes
there were this weekend. I ran the dishwasher 7 times in two days and really
felt like taking an Ativan because of this. Why does lobster need such a high
pot to die in anyways?
And it’s not like I was super talented at my day job this
week either. Usually I can fall back on that one. What a hot mess I am this
week ladies. Seriously. Usually in the area of self-confidence I am not
lacking-but this week?-man o man…..seriously I wouldn’t marry me if I was
forced to by gunpoint.
So that’s it-I tried my best yet again. And sure there
are many many things I do well-but right now I can’t think of any. Even the
human beings I produced all farted and burped all weekend…so what is so
magnificent in my upbringing of them anyways?
Another father’s day has passed and I have no clue how to
cook a roast beef, grow basil, park a boat or mop a floor. And worse? I have no
desire to learn and no intention to change.
And…to top it all off ….not only do I still have families
of racoons attacking me in the city home-now I have ducks at the cottage who
used to be so serene and calm jumping from the water into my lap to cuddle with
me out of the blue.
Please animals-go away- I don’t even
really like you. Often I just pretend to think you are really cute to feel more
part of the normal human race.
And ps- why do grade 6 graduations decorations need to be
made by hand anyways? Just makes the rest of us pathetic non crafty-disinterested
moms look even lamer in front of our children.
Goodnight. This post which I am sure you will find humorous
is really depressing me. I am good at sleep-so time to shut my eyes and get
back to Monday tomorrow where I can actually feel successful in my life again.
