We all remember the scene in Toy Story 2 where the evil Doctor Pork Chop has Bo Peep dangled by a string and with hate and vinegar in his voice says, “You must choose, Sheriff Woody. How shall she die? Shark? Or death by monkeys?” It seems a strange choice, but okay. We’ll go with it. It seems in the days of single-motherhood, I’ve come across my share of days when I feel as though I’m dangling by a string, facing my impending doom at the hands of many things or people. Yesterday, it just so happened it was my sons who were holding the strings.
Let’s go back to Sunday night. I told my son, to take a shower after he arrived home from the long Thanksgiving weekend at his dad’s home. He smelled of 13-year-old boy mixed together with hint of laziness, gathered from days of lounging game-side, as all kids on Thanksgiving break do. He (after much arguing and convincing that he really did smell!) humored me and hopped in the shower. Later, I discovered that the bathmat was dripping wet and once again he forgot to “seal off” his 120 degree, 30-minute long soak in the shower, and some of the water made it to the bathroom floor. Finding the poor rug puddled on the floor, I told him to place it in the tub so it could dry out.
Fast forward 12 hours when two teenage boys are (of course) running late for school on a Monday morning, and they’re taking their turns in the bathroom to shower, douse their parts with cologne, and gel their hair (notice I didn’t mention anything about brushing teeth…that’s a bigger issue at our house). Finally! Everyone out the door on time and delivered to school? Check! Mom celebrates with a “go me!” dance and to celebrate, I head to the bathroom to run a bubble bath so I can soak the rushed morning away in the tub before I head to work for another week of non-creative frivolity. I slide open the shower curtain, and straight out of the move Psycho, (hearing that all-to familiar screeching music) I see the bathmat lying lifeless in the bathtub. Are you freaking serious?! (This is the part where I’m dangling by a string. I envision my teenage boys each holding a string, giggling at me as I hang there with fury in my eyes.)
You guessed it, folks. Two boys, two showers, and one dead bathmat in the bottom of the tub. Teenagers gather their common sense as they go, I guess. I’m just waiting for the day for mine to start the gathering process!!!