A mom friend of mine texted me in frustration this evening – one of those memes with some old person swilling moonshine in their car. In short, she didn’t want to go into her house with her husband and children. I responded with this:
This was what I was doing as one of the most ridiculous evenings in recent memory was unfolding. Just prior to that awful picture of myself being taken, I was blissfully in the shower. As I conditioned my hair, I heard the sound of the door locks been jimmied open. Now this is nothing new. My husband taught my son how to pick locks about six months ago. Ever since then, I cannot go to the bathroom without at least one visitor. It’s pretty stupid. This time however, it was my husband. He asked if I was sitting down. That was a stupid question, because I was clearly taking a shower.
“Stella pretended a Sharpie pen was mascara,” he said. Oh shit. “How bad??” He went to fetch her. In the interim, she had clearly remembered the old mom/Sharpie trick; she ran and found some of the last remaining baby wipes in the house, and frantically scrubbed her face with them. I’ve got to hand it to baby wipes: they are simply magical when it comes to getting Sharpie off of children’s faces. She did such a good job that now you can only see black smudges when her eyes are closed. Crisis averted.
Obviously inspired by the Sharpie pen, she decided to play “makeover.” Over the years, I have collected small pots of pale-colored eyeshadow that I don’t wear, as well as some old brushes. I had given them to Stella to play with. One of the shades was some sort of bronzer. She had painted her entire face with it, calling herself a “clown.” She looked like the fucking Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz.
A short while later, I was playing on my phone while my children went absolutely berserk. It didn’t help that my husband – who has a new 3-D printer – had created a custom dart for one of the Nerf guns. Why was it custom? It was designed to carry a small cap gun charge. Think of it like a live warhead for children. What made it even more remarkable was that he was shooting it in the house. I can’t imagine why my children were cracked out.
My hysteria reached its peak when I went into my daughter’s room to turn on her sound machine. Her sound machine is really just her computer, with a YouTube link which plays ocean sounds for 11 hours straight. During her Sharpie pen escapade, she had decided to black out half of the alphabet andall of the special characters on her keyboard. Suffice it to say, emailing is about to get a lot more challenging. I tried to report this development to Will, but was laughing so hard that I was incoherent.
Clearly we are all mad here.