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Volume 3 #10 June 9, 2002
Ever had one of those days when your eyes flash open and you awaken knowing for absolute certain that this is gonna be the worst day of your life?? Of course, you don't inform any loved ones of your deep in your all knowing tummy pangs! Wouldn't want to bother THEM! I'm not talking about a major life threatening illness here. It's just that hubby wants his caffeine fix and you want to pour it somewhere other than the cup he's pounding on the table. Two toddlers are pulling at you and running in circles screaming: "Where is breakfast?". You wonder who is the most childish? Naturally, as you're attempting to make the Brood's and Brute's breakfast, you drop at least three raw eggs on the kitchen floor. Not enough rolls of Bounty in the world to scoop up that impossible mess! Then, just as you're almost finished refereeing the pounding/scream fest, the telephone rings and rings and rings. Your answering machine is on strike or it's taken this day off so it wisely doesn't do the screen thing. It knows who is phoning you up. It's that whining Aunt-in-law that locks you to the receiver for three hours. Rattle trapping on about how she and your Uncle are in such decrepit health they won't last another day. You mutter mechanically... uh huh... uh huh... whilst you're still trying to scrape off the broken egg yolk that's decided to make a nesting home on the top of your foot. Finally, after having heard every ear gouging detail of someone's gore filled life that you don't have the slightest clue as to whom they are or were, you project a light bulb reprieve! You claim you have call waiting. Even though you don't. Brute and Brood are finally off to work or preschool. You glare at the mess they left for you to magically make perfect. Your gaze turns to the front door. You consider your options. Spend hours cleaning or turn the door knob and run away? You know what you'll do. Polish the sticky knob. Clean up the mucked over house and prepare dinner. You sigh. 'Cause you know you will, without a shadow of a doubt, start the process all over again tomorrow.

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What bubbles your brain?

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©2000 Carol Ann Carson
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