Am I the only one who can’t sit still while I’m gabbing on the telephone?
Like tonight, my good friend Sue called. We live four hours apart and have only hung out a few times since we met a mere two years ago, but we bonded immediately for many reasons, not the least of which is that we totally crack each other up!
So, Sue calls, and it’s, like, prime witching hour at our house. Dad’s trying to put the three-year-old in the bath, and his older brothers are on their eleventeenth hour of video games / TV / whatever animated evil comes from laissez-faire parenting. Other kids are showing up. The cat is yeowling. Just another night in our house.
“Are you cleaning up dinner?” Sue asked. Sue has forgotten about what happens in households at 8:00 p.m. because her boys are older.
“Nah, we did takeout – Subway and Taco Hell Bell. There was no cleaning up – there was only throwing away.”
“Us too – Boston Market!”
You see how much we have in common?
There are five male offspring between the two of us, and the oldest four are pretty close in age. This gives us much to brag about, or commiserate about, depending on the day. Goodness knows, it gives me plenty to blog about.
Sue had called to discuss how much she had identified with a couple of my recent blog posts (especially this one). She claims to know a little something about squalor, but until I see photographic evidence, I still claim the title of Squalor Queen. (Is it just me, or does “Squalor Queen” sound like a brand of vacuum cleaner from the 1950s?)
So, I’m talking to Sue, and as misfortune luck would have it, I had answered the call on our one and only WALL PHONE. (Kids, it’s like the one pictured above, except it’s attached to the wall, and the cord is longer. And, it doesn’t have a DIAL, it has a button for each digit. Shut up and ask your parents.) Anyway, there I was, in my basement, tethered to the wall, with a range of only so far. I figured, while we chat, I can make good use of this time! I cleaned out the (nasty-ass!) cat litter box, which had been neglected, apparently for days. (Aside: Don’t believe the hype about Arm & Hammer “High Performance” Clumping Litter – we have one cat, and this stuff is the EXACT OPPOSITE of what they promise here. Maybe my cat’s just mutant, but seriously, I’ll never buy it again. Their Super Scoop stuff is worlds better.)
The only other thing I could reach from my telephone tether was the ironing board, which in my house would be more aptly called the resting place for many pieces of wrinkly clothing that, if it doesn’t get ironed soon, can just be packed away and worn again next year. Assuming that by then I haven’t regained all the weight I lost earlier this year. But, there I was, and Sue was all blah blah blah, so I turned on the iron and reclaimed a newish summery top.
“Sue,” I said, “I really want to thank you for calling. Because of you, I took a moment to iron a top that I might not have worn again for the rest of the summer — but thanks to you, I now have a new wardrobe item!”
Because after all – what are friends for?
Of course, the phone cord does reach to the toilet, too. But I didn’t, um, go there.
Filed under: cats, dated references, friends, gross, kids, motherhood, overextended family, parenthood, potty, separated at birth, squalor | Tagged: boys, cat litter, friends, ironing board, laissez-faire parenting, multi-tasking, phonecall, Squalor Queen, take-out, telephone | 4 Comments »
