Perpetually Peeved


Mommy’s Law

There’s this thing that happens when you become a mother.  This magical, torturous transformation that turns your butt (or, what’s left of it), into something akin to the bat signal.  Somehow, the nanosecond my ass hits a seat, a phone starts ringing in my family’s brains.  Ring… ring… ring…  time to need something from Peeved.

The other night, after a long day at work, a long drive home, a long getting the kids to eat dinner process, an even longer checking the homework and getting them to bed process, I finally got a chance to sit down.  Deciding not to get too ambitious (you can’t really relax until they’ve been down for a good 30 minutes), I reached past my book and picked up a magazine.

This is not just any magazine.  This is the best magazine ever.  A dear friend renews my subscription every year for Christmas and it’s my favorite present.  It only comes once every two months (or, at least it feels that long between issues).  Bookmarks magazine is to book lovers what Cosmo is to trashy 20-year-olds.  I have picked up some killer reads based on their recommendations that I ordinarily would not have even looked twice at.  As you can tell, I was writhing with anticipation to get my hands on it. 

I tiptoed out of the bedroom, down the hall, quickly past the kitchen (where my husband was cooking up some yums) and quietly as I could, sat down on the couch.

[Ring, ring, ring…]

Mr. Peeved:  Hey, Peeved, come here for a second.

Peeved:  What?

Mr. Peeved:  I need to talk to you.

Peeved:  What do you want to talk about?

Mr. Peeved:  I can’t talk to you from the other room.

Peeved: [then why are you trying? Maybe if I pretend I don’t hear him.]

Mr. Peeved:  I know you can hear me.  I also know you just sat down.  Now, stop being lazy and get in here.

Peeved: [Dammit!]

 Other Mommy’s Laws?

  • They never volunteer to go to the bathroom until right after you say you have to go.  Then they are racing to get there first.
  • The baby always wakes up right as you’re about to put the first bite of food in your mouth.
  • If you order them a kid,s meal, they won’t eat it.  If you don’t order them a kid’s meal, they’ll eat all your food (usually while perched atop your head and rubbing BBQ sauce into your shirt).
  • They’ll never remember they need three bottles of dishwashing liquid, a can of coke and a squeegee for science class until 10:00pm the night before and after you’ve already had 3 beers.
  • The second the opening credits for your show are over, WWIII will break out in the next room and you’ll have to play Switzerland.
  • If you try to close the door to the office and play around on the internet, the child will stop whatever game she was happily playing and demand that you play with her.  If you stop and go play with her, she will inevitably tell you that you aren’t doing it right and proceed to play on her own without you.

Please, just bury me with my Bookmarks magazines and a Kindle.  Looks like that will be the only “me” time I see in my (hopefully, distant) future.




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