Domestic Oblivion

Recent Unsettling Realizations

A number of things have occurred to me over the past month or two.  Some of them are really positive and very unsettling, and some of them are on the more negative end of the spectrum.  And just as unsettling.

In no particular order:

The bathrobe belonging to my eleven year old son fits me perfectly.  I am a 5’10″, 38 year old woman, and the clothing belonging to my barely double digit aged son fits me.  This scares me a little.

One of my besties, The Cycling Instructor, is SO in tune with the universe she was able to tell all the way from Meridian, with no verbal communication what so ever, that I was in dire need of upscale dark chocolate.  That is true friendship right there.  And why was my need dire?

My father sends me a box of my favorite chocolates each year for Christmas.  Like clockwork.  He has done this every year since I can remember.  On my doorstep arrives a coveted, custom packed box of marzipan covered with dark chocolate.  My secret love.  I hide this box, and make the delicious little treats inside last until my birthday in July.  At that point, my ever dependable sister sends me a box of dark chocolate from either France or Belgium, depending on where her work has taken her that summer.  This routine has been as reliable as clockwork for the past 15 years.

The other night Davie-O and I sat down to watch a movie.  I thought I’d like a little tasty tidbit.  I reached over to my new box of chocolates (I had had one chocolate the day after Christmas), to find the box completely empty of anything edible.  Oh sure, it still had every single little mocking piece of brown paper that had previously cradled my chocolate treats.  Just to tease me. 

So, I completely lost it.  First I yelled at Davie-O, then I yelled at ALL the kids (except Cutter, because he was the only one who fessed up to eating any at all).  Then I yelled at Davie-O some more, because he fessed up to eating some of them, coming up with the uber-lame excuse of thinking that “it was a family box of chocolates”.    I yelled louder after that.  First, and foremost, for the past 15 years of our marriage, this had never been a communal box of chocolates.  Second, Davie-O doesn’t even like dark chocolate.  Third, he doesn’t like marzipan. 

This of course begs the question of WHY he would even eat one, but I don’t have the strength to go there.  Not coupled with the knowledge that NONE of my kids like dark chocolate either; it all just means everyone ate my treats and didn’t really appreciate them.  They could have eaten a handful of milk chocolate M&Ms and ended up just as happy.  From all this, I learned that I have a frighteningly short fuse.  And that bugs me.

Although, isn’t it in some husband handbook somewhere that the number one stupid thing to do in a marriage is mess around with your wife’s chocolate stash?

I thought so.

Also unsettling is the fact that a dog that weighs less than 50 pounds can produce SO much gas that she can reek out an entire floor of our house.  For hours.  Please read THIS to get an idea of just how much I was bothered by this.  Mason has taken to referring to the dog as “menacing” and Cutter refers to her as “vile little dog”.  In the cold dark corners of my heart I am warmed by the vocabulary.

I have decided to pursue a Master Degree.  I am extremely excited about this new prospect in my life.  I’m also unsettled by it, because for so many years I’ve stated that there was no way I could do that much work and be a mom and be good to my husband and maintain friendships and blah, blah, blah.  But what I realize now is that it wasn’t that I couldn’t do the work, but that I couldn’t think of something that I was willing to work that hard on. 

UPDATE:  In case anyone was wondering about how I was going to remedy my chocolate situation, I want you to know that every member of the family unhappily gave me a wad of cash out of their piggy banks, and I’m going down to The Chocolate Bar to rebuild my stash.  And yes, I did overcharge them all.  But that’s what they get for being greedy!

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