Week Two: the situation turns much, much worse for our party.
It’s the second week of school. I had been counting down to this all summer. A little time alone, which I desperately need as part of my “GET THIS STRESS AWAY FROM ME” regime right now. A little time to write and nap. Shit.
Last Saturday at the farmer’s market Strudel started asking some questions.
“Mom, didn’t you say you could sunburn your eyes? My eyes are burning so bad.”
“You can, but it takes a lot of light exposure, like working on a reflective surface all day or being on the water usually,” I said. We had only been out for about a half hour.
“It really hurts.”
BAM: pinkeye. So I knew she wasn’t going to school Monday, or Tuesday, probably. It cleared up quickly, and Franny caught it as soon as she came back from her dad’s island on Monday night. So now she is home for her second day.
They were fighting in the kitchen, shouting and butt-paddling each other, which is a thing now. Franny was wearing no pants but an apron (making bacon like that, SIGH), so Strudel took the opportunity to paddle at will. What can you do when there is prime rump in front of you and revenge is on your mind? Things escalated and Strudel was getting it good, since her arms are shorter, and she started giving up and fighting dirty. I stay out of these dumb things because they don’t listen to me, really, and they are not really getting hurt.
Yelling! So much yelling I am flinching through my headphones, trying to get my goddam VPN to work…
“MOM TELL FRANNY TO GET OUT OF THE KITCHEN SINCE I AM WORKING AND SHE IS DONE. ISN’T THAT THE RULE MOM ONE PERSON AT A TIME?”
I had reached my limit.
“STOP YELLING SO I CAN MAKE MONEY SO YOU HAVE ENERGY TO YELL.”
Crickets. Franny went to her room. The remaining dishes were unloaded from the dishwasher with no further comment.
My new technique is to confuse them into silence.