 |
Bail me out o God, and send Thou a time-machine
quickly!
Use Thou the Delete key on Thy super computer and
evaporate into non-existence
last seven seconds of Thy servant's fleeting life,...
- somehow morphs into
a four-letter word that flies off my lips with a loud bang.
I am mortified.
Turns out, I am not the only one.
Curiously, my one word, four-letter prayer has an
instantaneous effect.
For barely had the single-syllable left my mouth, my entire
family jams up the bathroom doorway clogging up my only exit out of this mess.
What the…? Says my husband,
but before he could add anything else, I interrupt, horrified:
Watch your language! Children are listening!
Our young brood, however, seems oblivious to the finer
points of linguistic expression. They are absolutely mesmerized by the unprecedented
chaos unfolding before their eyes. It takes a minute or two for the revelation
to work its way through their innocent minds, turning their confusion into stunned awe.
They had no idea that their plain, painfully ordinary mother
has a secret identity of a She-Hulk and that she is capable of creating this much
destruction with her two bare hands.
A large neon sign DETOUR AHEAD is flashing inside my brain
and something tells me that it will be awhile before I open the can of
beautifully understated sage Venetian Plaster now buried under the pieces of
crumbled drywall.
I consider taking my high-end angled brush, returning it
to Lowe's for a refund and leave all the painting to professionals.
But what I really, really want to do above all else is punch Mike in the nose, because it's obvious that this mess is all his fault.
No comments:
Post a Comment