Clean the entire house with actual disinfectant rather than with the usual haphazard swiping at things with dry cloths and shoving stuff under and behind the couch and/or beds, so when I get home from work (where I SO did not want to be because I still feel like bleeeccccchhhhh and absolutely HATE blowing my nose in public), my house smells pine fresh and bleachy clean. Mmmmm-mmmmm.
When I am sick and fast asleep in bed, quietly sneak into my bedroom and leave little pictures you have drawn of me and you with gossamer wings, in pink ruffled fairy princess dresses and jeweled crowns, flying through an enchanted forest, with bouquets of flowers in our hands, and the words, "i lik mi mom" printed across the bottom in beautiful, painstaking, five-year-old scrawl.
Continue to claim me as your wife and best friend, even when you discover my unnatural obsession with all things show tuney, and the frighteningly selective cognitive recall I possess exhibited in my irritating ability to sing every single stinking song in such varied musicals as Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Bye Bye Birdie, The King and I, and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, but no freaking clue what I was supposed to buy at the supermarket.
Refrain from mocking me when you catch me in the bathroom practicing (with theatrical abandon!) my classical monologue audition piece from Much Ado About Nothing, even though I have never auditioned for a Shakespeare production and probably never will. Um, because I am a wussy.
Give me THAT LOOK when I finally get my voice back after a severe sore throat and I can finally ask you in my hoarse, cracked voice to clean your stinking room, by golly, or so help me you'll be sleeping in a cardboard box out at the corner with the other messy, ungrateful children, and you say in a sad, disappointed, seven-year-old, weary-woman-of-the-world voice, "Oh, Mom. Your voice is... loud again."
3 Comments:
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commented:
We were both fooled. We are nothing alike. My monologue audition piece is the witch from Hamlet ("Thrice the brinded cat hath mewed! Thrice, and once the hedge-pig whined!...) And my unnatural obsession is with standards singers (especially Dinah Washington, Dean Martin and Jimmy Durante).
I do hope you shared your happiness with your family. It definitely sounds like a wonderful end to a sucky day.- » 3/25/2005 11:00 PM
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Unknown commented:
Oooohhh. Aren't you lucky?! :)
- » 3/28/2005 8:21 AM
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Not-So-Normal-Mom commented:
I think we may have been separated at birth. I love your blog. I, too know all the songs from "Seven Brides..." and "Joseph", I even have the Joseph soundtrack on cd. I fear that my young sons also know too many of these songs. Anyway, I just wanted to say that "You are a'right dawg!"
- » 3/30/2005 12:23 PM