Monday, January 25, 2010

I'm just that damned interesting

I had no idea I was so fascinating. I had no idea me, on the computer, was so fascinating. No idea that me, sitting in an empty room staring at a wall while curled up in the fetal position was so interesting. But I am interesting on many many different levels.... to my family, anyway.

We have a formal living room, I felt it was a necessity when we bought a new house - "I need a formal living room." So I got one. It's lovely and spotless 99% of the time. Likely because it's never used, but frankly, that's beside the point. Growing up, we had a formal living room. I called it the "Avon Lady" room, because the only time the room was ever used (to my knowledge, or maybe that was the only time I was ever allowed in it?) was when the Avon Lady came calling. Sometimes I go into that lovely, clean and quiet room and suck my thumb. But the quiet doesn't typically last long - very soon, they're looking for me. My predators...they're after me and since I've escaped their immediate sight, they begin their hunt. "MOM!" I can follow the sound of their footsteps from my bunker. They start in the obvious rooms - the kitchen, the laundry room, the family room. As they enter each room, I hear them yell, "MOM!" As if, if I were in one of those rooms, I had perhaps shrunk to the size of a microbe and they couldn't see me - so they call for me to come forth like some paranormal being they're hoping will appear suddenly. Next, they open the garage door, certain I must be out there smoking, "MOM!" Again, with the shouting of my name.

I hear the door to the garage slam and hear their footsteps again - they're coming closer and closer down the hall, approaching my refuge, "MOM!" I don't answer. I refuse to answer because at this point it's funny to me. Funny that I can be within 20' of them and they cannot find me. As I hear their footsteps coming nearer, I think, "you're getting warmer, warmer, very warm....." but then their lead-laden feet hit the carpet on the steps and they continue their trek on another floor, "MOM!" Now I laugh quietly to myself, "Ah! so warm, and now so cold - I'm right the frick here!!" Quickly, they run into one of their siblings with whom they were sparring 20 minutes prior, "Have you seen Mommy?" And the other one has not so they join forces - this mother, OUR mother, she's missing and must be found now! So the shouts continue through the house, traversing the route already traveled by the solo hunter, now being traveled two by two - "MOM!" There have been times they've given up or found something or someone more interesting, which is a tad disheartening to me - like a childhood game of hide and seek and your seeker forgot you were a hider and leaves you there in your perfect hiding spot to die. (This never personally happened to me, but I did leave a few hiders behind in my day. I feel guilty and hopefully they've been found. I know it's mean, but they were annoying - I'm just sayin' is all). But most of the time I just laugh to myself at the fact they honestly could not find me - because I'm in the forgotten room. Eventually,though they will locate my husband and tell him the horror story of how I'm missing and they cannot find my anywhere and they've looked everywhere. I hold my breath as I hear my husband walking toward the forgotten room, he spots me and just smiles. Then the predators move in for their attack - "What are you doing in here mommy? Didn't you hear us calling you?" They sit, stare at me for a few minutes and then they're off. I guess me sucking my thumb in the forgotten room isn't that fascinating. Although every time they spot me in there - they also sit. As if they're trying to figure out MY fascination with this room - the room with no TV, no phone, no computer. They haven't figured it out yet.

But ME, ON THE COMPUTER? THAT is fascinating. I've run 3 of them off while typing this entry, 1 of them twice. The instant I sit at the computer, like stink on shit, I have an audience standing 2" from me and hovering over my head, my shoulder, wedged under my left arm between my torso and the keyboard, to get their eyes right in front of the screen and blocking my view. "What are you doing? What are you typing? Can I play Disney? Can I get on my Facebook? Is that a new computer? Where'd you get it? Can I have it? Can I use it? Is it ours to keep? Why don't you want me to read that? I know how to blog too, as a matter of fact, I knew how before you did. I don't know why you're hiding that, I'm not an idiot I can search for it you know." Look people - it's NOT about privacy of the blog. I will happily hand you the link. It's not about privacy of what I post on my Facebook - you're my friends on Facebook, remember? I don't have a secret lover, a cyber-friend or any other clandestine relationships on the world wide web. I'm not doing anything terribly interesting, intelligent or exciting over here. I'm just talking smack on you.

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