Today I am joining friends on a Blog Link UP called THE LOFT...
I have shared this story before, but it is still funny to me how words can just come out of my mouth and sound so ridiculous!!! My boys still tease me about this one!!
Enjoy!
I have shared this story before, but it is still funny to me how words can just come out of my mouth and sound so ridiculous!!! My boys still tease me about this one!!
Enjoy!
Going Postal
It happened.
Right there in the basement
one early spring day.
It was everywhere.
I have yet to see anything
so horrific in my entire life and I am getting more life on me than I could see
coming when I married Mike.
There I was in the middle of
all of this splattering of trash-vomit, piles of refuse and debris.
The day had started so
well. It was a Saturday, I think, and
while the weather was not warm, there were certain signs and scents of spring
in the air. I left my spot on the couch
and drained the rest of my coffee to begin the weekend routine of cleaning
house.
The main living area of the
house was in pretty good shape. I have a
husband who knows how to help out. Mike faithfully ran the vacuum, cleaned the
bathrooms and cleaned the kitchen for me every Friday before I got home from
the office in the late afternoon.
My goal for this
particular day was to clean the “Man Cave”.
“The Man Cave" (a.k.a. the Basement) was in need of some
mom-cleaning. You know, the kind where things actually get moved and the
showers get really good and scrubbed? That kind of clean. The boys have been responsible for their own
laundry and space for quite some time, but it was just time for Mom to and help
out.
Please don’t get the wrong
idea. This is not a space where high
definition monitors project high-quality technology over surround sound theater
seating with a kitchenette and/or bar nearby.
There were no sports posters or trophies or other Pintrest Worthy ideas displayed
this space.
What I mean by Man Cave is
that The Boys LIVED in the space. Drums,
sticks, guitars, amps, keyboards, sheet music, strings. Our boys are musicians
and we have the BEST music in the neighborhood!
We have raised the most
handsome, most intelligent, most considerate well-behaved young men on the
planet. They are absolutely perfect and
have never done anything wrong. NEVER. Except for the day in question.
To help you, the reader,
understand my perspective, our basement was once home to Mike’s parents. When we moved to our neighborhood, we had a
full basement put in so they could live with us and not be so far away. The
basement includes a full kitchen and den, single car garage, two full baths,
laundry room, master bedroom and an extra room for storage. When Mike’s brother
Tim came over he stayed in the space. Or
Camille, our good friend from Cameroon Africa. And other guest that have stayed
in our home over the years.
I know what you are
thinking… It sounds like we put extra people in a storage area in our basement,
but that’s not what I meant. We use the
space as a spare bedroom, not a storage room for extra people… please! I am not
that bad!
I began to clean the
kitchen. Sticky, overflowing, un-namable and crushed walked over items, left-over
food and wrappers crumpled on the floor.
Forgotten cups, mugs, dishes lying around. Ick was everywhere. Then I began to clean the bathrooms.
The more I cleaned the madder I got. I was so upset with how
messy and dirty they had allowed the space to become... so I quit.
I had
already invested more of my precious day on this chore and I was furious!
Madder by the minute- I did what any good mother of grown up sons would
do...
I posted a sign on the basement door that went something like
this:
(no joke: I had to rewrite my sign three times to
get the words just right and
to not use some words that preachers wives are not
supposed to use…)
My oldest son, Cameron, was the first to come in and see the
note. He promptly took the sign down and laughed and asked what was I
thinking??? I told him I was very serious and he had better put the note back
up and/or tell his brothers because I was serious!!
Matthew and Kyle came in right after and asked why I was
'freaking out'??
Oh, no they didn’t just ask me that!
"Because I am about to Go Postal on you!"
I had been
thinking of that phrase the whole time I was cleaning and allowing my anger to
flare... I had no idea what that really means. So I said to them...
I am seriously about to Go POSTAL!!!
I am not sure what that even means…
but if it
means getting
ALL UP IN YOUR ZIP
CODE
then I am going there!!
As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I couldn't help but
to laugh. I laughed at myself and how funny my angry words sounded... after
all, I am the Queen of Mom Jokes in this house!! And I have never been able to
be really mad at these perfect sons of mine!!
I was suddenly no longer mad, but was laughing at myself as they
LAUGED hysterically-AT ME!!
The Boys did, in fact, get the space very good and cleaned and Mike
made an inspection before I got home that Wednesday and I didn’t have to get up
in anybody’s zip code!
But they often tease me when I seem frustrated or aggravated for
any reason... "Mom, are you about to go postal??” then they smile at me,
hug my shoulders and I can't help but smile at how much they make my heart weep
with joy.
I love them so!
You can read more funny stories from other authors by visiting
The Loft. You will be blessed!
You can read more funny stories from other authors by visiting
The Loft. You will be blessed!
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