Tuesday, September 27, 2016

thanks for playing, try again

I swear my intentions are never bad. I mean, as long as we're not talking about the time my friend Ally & I made up a club called the EAK -evil alysa killers- and started making her beauty products out of bad perfume, velveeta cheese & all other things horrific.  Or the time Haley & I hacked into another girl's MySpace account and made it look like she was in love/obsessed with a boy that I liked so he would stop talking to her. These happened in my adolescent years, and when it came to "good intentions", my track record wasn't great. I'd like to think I've moved past that.

I try to be a good wife. You know, things like keeping my word when I say I won't watch another episode of Master Chef without The Hubs (ew. who says that? oh, that's right-- me), or shaving my legs for date night. Occasionally I even go as far as to make him lunch to take to work. Usually this consists of leftovers of whatever we had for dinner the night before.

We had spaghetti for dinner. I was exhausted, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend any more time in the kitchen than I had to. I told myself as long as I got lunch packed for Taylor, I could go to bed and finish the dishes the next day. 

The next day came. Not that I can remember, but I'm 99% sure the dishes weren't touched. Because who wants to touch day-old dishes when you can leave them in the sink for a week until your husband cracks and cleans the whole house? I really am a stellar wife. Taylor came home after school  (night classes) and mentioned he was starving.

"Did I not pack you enough food?" I asked, slightly panicked. 

"Oh, no... you did." he laughed.

I had packed plenty of spaghetti noodles. I just forgot the sauce. Apparently, when there is no sauce or liquid added to pasta when you reheat it, it hardens right back up. I don't know what was funnier to me-- the fact that he heated it up anyway, or that he ate nearly half a bowl of dry, plain noodles before calling it quits. That's true love.

I had this moment of NOOOOO. You know, like in the end of The Fellowship of the Ring, where Boromir finally gets his shiz together and starts fighting, and then BOOM.

It's like the universe's way of saying, "Thanks for playing, Boromir. Try again." And he DOES.  He keeps fighting, with an arrow in him. Because Boromir is B freakin A. 

The moment I realized I had forgotten the sauce was my first arrow. But I would do anything to work on set with Viggo Mortensen, so you know, I gotta keep fighting until he comes to kiss my forehead when I die. 

I had a moment today when I decided to keep fighting. Ironically, we had spaghetti for dinner. I am just now realizing that and am blown away. IT'S A SIGN.

So there we are, at the dinner table eating spaghetti. Spaghetti. Both times! I can't get over this, you guys. Jameson was practicing his audition for the scene in "A Christmas Story" where the little boy eats like a pig. He was doing a marvelous job, but Taylor was unimpressed. 

"Jameson" he simply said.

For whatever reason, the mention of his name made him stop eating. He looked up, and began wailing. WAILING. 

"Bud, bud, it's okay! you're not in trouble!" I tried to reassure him. 

It was then I remembered we still had the TV on, with some foreign show about horses Jamey had picked on Amazon Prime. I waited for a scene that showed horses, and made my move.

"Jamey, look!"

I directed his attention to the TV, and was reminded that foreign shows are weird as the scene cut to a couple of horses mating. 

"No! Wait! Don't look!"

I had this flashback to the time I turned on a documentary about animals for him, and fast-forwarded to the cow part. (Cows are his favorite animal.) This also happened to be a foreign film. I didn't know it at the time, but it was about animal cruelty. We have a gift for picking top-notch foreign films about animals. We sat and watched a beautiful panorama of cows grazing in a field, when suddenly a guy with a machete enters the scene and starts a cow massacre. 

Because I was so consumed in this flashback of the 4629847 time I ruined my son's life, I have absolutely no recollection as to how he reacted to seeing his second favorite animal mating on screen. 

My intentions were pure. I was trying to cheer him up. But pure as my intentions were, I was hit with my second arrow. (In reality it's probably my seventeenth arrow, but for the sake of this post, it's two). 

One more arrow, Viggo. I'll be waiting.


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