Thursday, June 9, 2011
When it hits the fan...it hits the fan
I knew I was supposed to be doing something...I just couldn't remember what.
I was on the phone with my sister when Husband calls...and calls...and calls. ("Maybe I should answer that.")
It finally dawns on me...I was supposed to run some cash out to him at work.
I pick up the phone, "I'm coming."......."Do you remember what else I was going to do while I was out?"
He rattles off my to do list:
*trip to drug store ("list is on the counter"),
*trip to red and white bullseye place for Rx's,
*trip to neighboring city to drop off a bike at bike shop (30 min drive BOTH WAYS)!
I look at the clock...It's 11:30AM.
"I'm so not going to make it home before nap time."
It's a mad rush to get ready to leave.
I start preparing lunch on the go (more economical, you know)...yell for Little Red and Mini Rob to "go potty and get shoes on"... Mr. Golden Locks is still in his jammies...heck, I'm still in my jammies...gotta get the bike in the car...don't forget the coupons...
I'm feeling a little frantic at this point. So much to do.
(Thank goodness for therapy!)
I try calming myself using some anxiety relieving techniques (inhale slowly 1,2,3,4...exhale slowly 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8...inhale slowly 1,2,3,4...exhale slowly 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8...you get the idea).
"Mom!," I hear from the other room.
I continue to peel carrots while going over the checklist again in my head.
Yeah...still peeling carrots...lost in my own thoughts.
Finally, "MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM!"
"WHAT?!?!?," I yell.
"[MR. GOLDEN LOCKS] THREW YOUR KEYS IN THE TOILET."
(goodbye new found calm feeling)
Carrots forgotten I RUN (literally) to the bathroom.
My worst fears are confirmed....my keys are in the toilet...so is Mini Rob's urine...and two or more weeks worth of bacteria (yeah, I've been meaning to get to that.) UGH!
(Have I mentioned I'm a semi recovered OCD-ish germ-a-phoebe.)
Not good...not good at all.
I order the kids out...and ask Little Red to assist Mr. Golden Locks in the detoxification process (hand sanitizer).
I grab the keys out of the toilet and throw them in the bathroom sink. I begin the first of several wash cycles (with anti-bacterial soap, of course) while alternating between panic and self-control in my head ("sick, disgusting, I will never be able to touch them again"... "get a hold of yourself, calm down, you will clean them well, you will move on, and you will be okay (positive self reinforcement...ya know)).
While in this back and forth debate with myself (between the OCD and the sane Melanie) I forget what I am doing (other than white knuckle scrubbing these keys)...there are soap suds everywhere.
Little Red comes back into the bathroom, takes a look and says "Mom...your wasting water."
I swear I could have shot lasers out of my eyes just then. Instead I had to settle for "the evil eye" and "the nostril flare."
"What?", he says casually.
Once I finally got control of myself (and the sane Melanie won out), I did pretty good.
I cut off a fabric key chain that was soaked in toilet water (who needs it anyways), bathed them in Clorox Clean-up (literally), and washed them again (all that you ask? Yeah...and that's the SANE Melanie)
Husband calls..."Are you coming?"
Forget economical...we're going to McDonald's!
UPDATE: I also ended up skipping the trip to the bike shop after I took the wrong freeway exit. A woman can only take so much in one day.