Check Your Showers

I got in an argument with my 16 year old today about who’s more annoying, him or me. I won. And not because he’s my kid with expressive language disorder, and I can talk him to death. That is NOT why I won. I won because I’m RIGHT, and he’s the annoyingest. The annoying-EST. The AnnOY. ING. EST. He’s the ANNOYINGEST.

For the record,

Signature

 

 

 

P.S. Because my son is the annoyingest, he insists the record also reflect that he is more mature than his mother. “I annoying, Mom? I annoying? OK, fine. But I MATURE, Mom. I mature-ER, Mom, than YOU.”

P.P.S. Fine. Whatever.

P.P.P.S. It’s 9:02pm, friends, and I’m face down in the sauce where “sauce” = “life.” Not where “sauce” = “booze.” I have no energy for booze right now. I’m face down in life.

P.P.P.P.S. I’m typing at my desk in my bedroom which is dark except for the glaring light of my computer screen and the single strand of colored Christmas lights strung haphazardly around the window which has been up since last year around this time and sports a few cobwebs that glow on the orange light and the red one in particular and stir in the wind when I blow at them.

P.P.P.P.P.S. Thanksgiving weekend was good until it wasn’t, full of family who lift us up and let us down, and this weekend I got to be both the lifter and the letter, so there’s that. Being human, man. Being human can be rough.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S. By Saturday afternoon, I was in bed, down with the flu that had been chasing me, and now it’s Monday, knocking on Tuesday, and four more of us have fallen to the harfing and the runs. Three kids and two parents laid flat and oozing. We’re an attractive crowd, my family. Adorable.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I took a third grader to the doctor today. Not because of the pukes; we’re over going to the doctor for that. I’ll just give myself the $90 to tell me my kid’s sick, thankyouverymuch. But we still find plenty of reasons to visit the doc and put ninety dollarses into the office coffers. Today’s visit was plantar warts. On the way to the office to have the warts frozen, my kid and I talked about Jesus and the Light and the Darkness. We talked about winter when the sun sets early and this season of Advent and our unreasonable, relentless hope that Light is coming again. On the way home, he yelled Fuck and Shit and MOTHER FUCKER because his feet throbbed and ached from the liquid nitrogen, and my kid believes in the science of swearing. The entire round trip felt like various forms of prayer because we believe around these parts that God is in the grime and the gore as much as the gorgeous and the grace. I don’t know what to tell you, folks; we’re a strange bunch.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I took a shower tonight and prayed again because prayer was the theme of the day – obviously – and my prayer went like this… “Dear Jesus, Why is my family so annoying? Why, Jesus? WHY?”

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. When I opened my eyes, I saw this:

IMG_7659

We’ve been showering with douche gel, y’all. Douche gel. I cannot even tell you how much this explains.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. In conclusion, check your showers.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. And also, Jesus answers prayers.

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ABOUT BETH WOOLSEY I'm a writer. And a mess. And mouthy, brave, and strong. I believe we all belong to each other. I believe in the long way 'round. And I believe, always, in grace in the grime and wonder in the wild of a life lived off course from what was, once, a perfectly good plan.
14 comments
  1. Just a little plantars wart hack for you and the kiddos… I kid you not, cover those monsters (the warts, not the whole kid ;-)) with some duct tape and in a few weeks, poof! I mean, replace the duct tape as needed of course, but, poof. I suffered from warts for a long time and even when I thought they were gone, they’d return (I was a swimmer, people would often blame my repeated encounters with pools and pool floors, etc– I have no idea of the truth of this at all). ANYWAY. Then duct tape, and no more warts. I mean it take like three weeks or so, but I bet it takes less than $90 of duct tape.

  2. Don’t despair! “Gel Douche” is French for Shower Gel.

  3. Face down in the sauce…yup, same here. Can it at least be something yummy like cheese sauce?

    Thanksgiving. Hooooboy. Yup, delightful time with family, and we are still paying for it. Even though we didn’t go anywhere but our own dining room table, and didn’t have anyone eating with us except family that my kiddos see ALL THE FREAKIN TIME, except not ALL at MIDDAY meal all TOGETHER, and new foods, and holy cow Daddy was home for FOUR DAYS….YOU MOVED OUR CHEESE AND WE CAN’T COPE! Change! Let’s cry through the whole church service on Saturday because we felt a BREEZE through the open door and OMIGOSH SCARY! Let’s get SO offended at Daddy’s COMPLETELY unreasonable request that we lay in our BEDS at BEDTIME that we throw a violent tantrum and kick him in the face and break his glasses and make his eyelid bleed!

    They’ve only been home for six months. It gets better right? Tell me it does. Also, can we please skip Christmas?

  4. For a while, I thought you’d “won” by being the most annoying. Perhaps because that’s how I’d “win”.

    1. Me too! Same in my family…both with my children and my mother!

  5. […] But because I say SO MUCH otherwise here, and I never, ever, ever want my ridiculous stories or my potty mouth to reflect negatively on the work of Medical Teams. I never want my laissez faire attitude toward […]

  6. Save yourself the $90 and use apple cider vinegar on plantar warts. Place a cotton pad soaked in the vinegar over the wart, cover completely and change morning and night. My 8 year old had one, we did this for 3 days and it fell out. His foot felt so much better. No scrapping or anything like that.

    1. Also what our pediatrician recommended: duct tape. Takes longer, but the same results…

  7. Your posts crack me up and lift me up. My kids are grown and gone with kids of their own. I imagine your life mirrors theirs in so many ways. Make me smile…..and gives me a certain amount of satisfaction, too.

  8. Effing laughing my butt off-would totally swear but I think one of my kids reads you and I don’t want them to know I’m human yet. They’re in their thirties. I am sure they haven’t figured that one out yet. Right?

  9. You’re a lifter. You are hilarious. You give hope.

  10. Sending you love. Because that’s what I feel when I read your posts. I have a kid with a broken thumb in a cast, and the other is in a knee immobility brace from her upper thigh to ankle. Know what I did? Went and got family pictures made. It had been 5 years and I wanted to flip the bird at laying face flat in the sauce of life. 😀
    You are my COMEunity and I thank you for helping me smile in the sauce. Keep on rocking girl! xo

  11. Next time, for planters warts, save the $90 and buy yourself a $3 roll of duct tape. I get plantars warts bad. So bad, freezing did nothing. Three days of duct tape on 24/7, cut ot the dead skin, then 3+ more days of duct tape 24/7 and they were gone. Not kidding!! Duct tape. To the rescue.

  12. Omg this sounds exactly like one of my days with my house of five teenagers. Life is ALWAYS crazy. We have four children who are adopted and one child who is by birth , so they all have way different personalities. I really get what you are going through and what you are feeling. In one month we had our oldest son who has autism steal a few of my precious rings to give to a girl he barely knows, another son smashed two of our vehicles on his way to college and a third child got 6 days of lunch detention because she caused a ruccous in the cafeteria. Oh life is so sweet in our house. Hear the sarcasm? They are a great bunch of kids but BOY do they put us through the ringer. So yes I hear and feel your pain.

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