Ask And Ye Shall Receive…

an answer, that is. It  might not be the one you wanted to hear because let’s admit it; we seldom ask questions we don’t know or want the answers to. Especially the existential kind. Even with the academic kind, we’re hoping that we don’t have to be in situations where algebraic equations or doing a syntax analysis of a “complex” sentence is a regular staple.

But we do end up asking the all important, inevitable question from time to time viz WHY ME?

And the universe answers. Even with those implicit questions which you kept inside your head and hadn’t voiced out. Take my case for example. I was planning that today, Friday, was going to be the Friday that would define how the rest of the Fridays were going to be in 2016 or at least for the first half of the year. I was going to be a human whirlwind (because the position of human hurricane has been filled for the last 5+ years by the offspring) and tackle the laundry, the linens, the stuff I’d normally hide stuff in closets and get the house tidy! T-I-D-Y. And then I was going to really enjoy the weekend because I’d earned it. Big time!

And what happens this morning? I put my back out. Just a sign from the universe that the untidiness is fated to linger a la Doris Riordan’s song of the same ilk. And here I am now. Playing my role as a ungainly combo of R2D2 and C-3PO (the chunky, rotunda of the former and the stiff, jerky movements of the latter). And that ladies and gents is our little nod to the Star Wars fever that’s taken over the world!

Anyhoo, getting back to moi…I guess I was (am) disappointed because today was going to be the day I zipped across town after getting the car back from the shop and not play the cliched role of a housewife binge-watching her favorite shows and grazing all day long. In properly-spaced intervals I mean. The grazing. Not the watching. That’s a continuous process.

And now I’m actually compelled to be stationary when I wanted to be bustling about.

So if we get back to where we started from viz the question we ask the Universe in an utterly vexed fashion, “why me?” it’s not difficult at all to imagine the universe answer in a deep voice (James Earl Jones for the majority and Kathleen Turner for the feminists among us), “why not you?”

The Life Of An Urban Housewife

  • Get up and beat the alarm…not to death but beat it to the finish.
  • Stumble over toys and everything that should not be scattered on the floor.
  • Brush while still a zombie.
  • Use the loo and think Oh God…another day.
  • Struggle into swimsuit and go for a dip.
  • Get into pool and properly wake up.
  • Thank the heavens both kid and husband are still asleep.
  • Scramble out of pool to wake up kid and husband.
  • Walk back in wet clothes and squelching slippers because changing takes time.
  • Walk carefully into the house to not drip more water than required.
  • Wake up sleeping beauties. Loudly.
  • Jump into the shower, shampoo, dry hair, put on clothes.
  • Wake up sleeping beauties. LOUDER.
  • Tickle child awake.
  • Kick husband out of bed.
  • Alternate between cajoling and threatening child to the bathroom to brush his teeth.
  • Ultimately give child piggyback ride to bathroom and coax him to brush his damn…erm little teeth.
  • Give husband nasty looks because he’s reading sports page and not making coffee.
  • Get child to brush teeth and rinse his mouth properly.
  • Give husband nastier look and say stop acting like a slug/sloth/any other S-L-O-W moving creature.
  • Get child to dinning table and give him a glass of milk and promise yes, there’s a lot of yummy chocolate at the bottom.
  • Forgive husband while he hands you a cup of coffee.
  • Leave coffee untasted while child starts playing with cars and dinos at the table and leaves milk untouched and raise your voice to the “I’m getting angry” level.
  • Give husband the EVIL EYE when he says you shouldn’t get angry so early in the mornings.
  • Get milk into child eventually.
  • Get child into school clothes.
  • Run after him with a brush to comb his hair and put lotion on his face.
  • Kiss him goodbye and promise yourself to be a less impatient mother from now on.
  • Look at husband with benevolent eyes once he drops child off and comes back home.
  • Feel blood pressure rising when you keep talking to husband and he keeps burrowing into the same damn sports page.
  • Feel relieved when husband finally goes for his bath.
  • Feel irritation when he forgets his towel and asks you for once just as you pick up the paper. YET AGAIN.
  • Start counting to 10 when he asks if you know where his washed undies are. AGAIN.
  • Start looking for a weapon when he asks if you’ve seen his glasses. YES! Again. Every single damn day!!
  • Recite his checklist by rote and make sure he’s taken everything he needs to for work.
  • Send him off and feel love and affection flooding your heart. And relief.

It’s 9 am. You’ve been up for 2 1/2 hours. And there’s the rest of the day to get through. And you WILL do this again. TOMORROW. THE DAY AFTER. And the day after that too.

Thank God for predictability.



Image courtesy-