The children hate me.
Not all the children…. just mine
and it’s an evil kind of hate
Not the kind of hate where they’re mean to my face…
I could probably handle that a lot better
It’s the kind of hate where they pretend to adore me…. while pushing all the right buttons to make my brain spin.
I diagnosed myself with OCD many years ago.
I like diagnosing myself with stuff…I tried diagnosing myself with anorexia once, to lose weight…
It didn’t work…
I guess you actually have to “not eat” and stuff…
yeah, being hungry sucks…
Anyway… I’m extremely particular about the way things should be… or should look.
I prefer odd numbers to even
I treat my grocery cart like a game of tetris
When I hand money to a cashier… I have to rearrange the bills to make sure they are all facing the same direction
In my mind… it all makes perfect sense.
In my mind’s mind… I worry that I’m going to end up one of the crazy people wandering Main St, in my 50s
I knew tonight was going to stir up my issues.
Our big fat Christmas tree had been standing in the corner…. nude, for 3 days
I had promised the children that they could decorate it, for 3 days
Something always seemed to come up, for 3 days
Tonight, I knew, was the night…
If I waited much longer they’d be decorating the tree after Christmas day… and I’m pretty sure there are laws about that… or something
So, I called my 3 boys into the room…. opened the new box of ornaments I had bought and told them to go at it.
As the boys happily approached the tree, I fled to the computer and tried to lose myself in Facebook
but, I knew….
I knew what was going on behind me
Briefly glancing over my shoulder, I nervously reminded them not to put the same colors right next to each other
Not one child acknowledged my request so I whispered the rest of my plea
“try to space them out…. don’t hang any on the very bottom… and don’t put any on the back because we can’t see them”
I don’t know who I was talking to but it made me feel better to have the words pass my lips.
They were done terrorizing the Christmas tree after about 7 minutes
When they came bounding over to me, anxious to show off their work… I pretended to look and told them that it looked nice…
Still high from the euphoria of simultaneously getting to manhandle the Christmas tree while pushing mom head-first into a crazy town panic attack, they ran off to their rooms.
After 5 minutes, I talked myself into looking at their work.
I slowly turned in my computer chair and gazed at the ornament filled tree
For a brief moment, I saw nothing wrong…
and then something pulled my gaze towards the bottom of the tree…