Pop!

Bubbles.

Sparkling.

Fizzy.

What is this, a frickin’ Haiku?

My favorite beverage, no matter what time it is. I love me a glass of Prosecco. Hell, it’s five o’clock somewhere, right? And I think if you drop a few dozen berries in it, then it’s an afternoon snack. Yup. It totally becomes a healthy treat. Shit, it’s downright good for ya. And I can hear Dr. Oz whispering in my ear,”Jennifer, have another! Go ahead, in fact, just add Chobani Greek Yogurt…and you will have S-shaped poop!” Jesus. If I have to worry about drinking a fucking glass of Prosecco at 5:00 in the afternoon on a Thursday, then my life is really fucked up. If I want a glass of wine, then I’m having a glass of wine. I had a long day. It was the first of summer over here at Camp Jen, and I shit you not…it couldn’t have started out any better, not.

I woke up at 6am, and had to shower before the cleaning lady came at 8:30. I mean, Goddess forbid I should be in her way. What the fuck is that? I feel bad that she is cleaning my house, ok? I feel guilty. I do. I have this thing about the sweet little Mexican girl scrubbing my floors when I should be doing it. So, I clean the house for the cleaning lady. You all do it, I know. We scramble to clean, so she can clean…and then we run as fast as we can to get the fuck out so she doesn’t make us feel guilty. Ugh. So, it was the boys first actual day to sleep in. I know, I know. I’m the WORST Mom. Whatever. So I start screaming at them,”Get up and get dressed! We need to get out of the house! The cleaning lady is coming!!! Move it!!” Well, that didn’t go over so well. You can imagine the reaction I got from my tweens. Jonah simply ignored me. And Zac screamed down, “What the hell Mom, are you ON YOUR PERIOD? OMG. You are acting like a crazy person!”

Well, ummm. I was in shock. Even if I was “on my period” that child cannot speak to me that way. No, he can’t. Period. No pun intended. Who talks to their Mother that way? And how does he even know what a “period” is? And for the record, I am not on the rag. I just needed to get out of the house before the girl came! Why am I explaining this to you? So I scream up, “Get your ass down here, and bring me that iPhone (he just got it for graduation yesterday) it’s gone!” I felt so good about that. I took away his brand-spanking new iPhone for the day, because he can’t talk to me that way. And he cannot ask me if I’m bleeding out of my vagina. Damn that child.

So, that’s how I started my day. And it only got worse from there. He cried. He screamed. He yelled at me, and threw his flip-flop at my head. He told me I was the devil. But I stood my ground. Yes, siree I did. No one asks if I’m on the rag without some serious repercussions. But boy was he annoying. That kid could really fucking dray my cup. By noon, I wanted to throw myself under a moving vehicle. I was begging him to just leave me alone! But he wouldn’t stop bugging me. So, I gave it to him. I just couldn’t take another minute of his relentless and unwavering bullshit. Good grief.

So, I caved.

As I usually do, I gave him back his most prized possession…and hung my head in shame. Even Jonah was looking at me in disgust. Like I had lost the family puppy, or failed my driver’s test. I just wanted him to shut his pie hole! So really, it was a win-win. I gave him back his phone, and I got some peace and quiet. There. See how that worked out? Everyone is happy! And truth be told, I used it as a teachable moment. We talked about menstruation. I told that dumb bunny that it’s not really the best idea to ask a woman if she’s “bleeding out” just because she’s acting like a bitch. That perhaps, he should just walk out of the room, or go ride his bike…or as he gets older, leave the house for a week.

Poor child. He is going to need some serious therapy. Living with me just can’t be easy…but I can assure you, it is definitely one for the books. Or the blog. Ha. I am going to pour me another glass of Prosecco, anyone care to join me? Bubbles for all! Oh, but let’s hold the berries. ;)

xo j

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Ahhhh….summer!