Things are Not as They Appear.

This Sunday I had myself a true Judas Iscariot moment.

I denied knowing my own children at the grocery store.

Then I stopped after reading that last line and asked myself  “Hey girl who spent her whole life chained to a pew in parochial school! WHO was it now that denied Jesus three times?” “Why YES you moron that would be Peter.”

Judas sounds so much more theatrical though, so I’m keeping it even thought it is not historically accurate.

While waiting patiently in the checkout line my two boys began to act a little squirrely.

They were redirected to the front of the store near the exits brought there by my beleaguered mother who was lacking her usual sharp tongue and was hanging there like a limp dishrag due to a debilitating migraine.

 This means that the boys were running in circles, screaming about having a girlfriend, punching each other, jumping off the bench my mother was passing out on, smashing the video machine with the dollar rentals and accosting the automatic lotto dispenser.

Two über uptight couples with pursed thin lips were starting to shake their heads in disbelief and exchanging disgusted looks with each other at the volume and sheer audacity of the two unruly boys and their comatose caretaker.

“So rude and disrespectful” noted one.

“Why isn’t she doing anything to control them?” asked the other.

Then Il Duce let loose with a rank profanity followed by a roaring hysterical cackle and I watched them gasp with horror.

They were truly disgusted.

“CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?!” they croaked, looking at me.

I thought for a moment. There were thousands of ways I could go here but I opted for betrayal.

“I know!” I commiserated, as I lugged the rest of my fresh produce onto the belt.

I didn’t feel nearly as bad as I know I should have but it was just so much easier to cut and run regarding knowing this lot than to try to explain them to someone who wouldn’t care.

After scooping my mother up off the bench and driving her back home so she could suffer her mind exploding agony alone on her couch I spoke briefly to the boys about minding their behavior in public. But my pleas fell on deaf ears as they were both fast asleep in the back.

Child With the Annoying Voice

It's true!

Everybody loves kids right?

 I mean they are sweet, innocent , endearing and wonderous.

Only a  terminal asshole would fail to see the beauty in every precious little moment and treasure it.

TREASURE IT I SAY!

Except…what is that sound?

The nasal caterwauling that sounds like a combination of someone shaking an injured hawk and declawing a cat?

 Is that even human?

Is that……….a child’s voice?

Okay, strike me down now but it was unbearable. I kept having to wrinkle my forehead (something my derm has told me in no uncertain terms NOT to do to remain youthful) and squint my eyes to ward it off.

 Why I wasn’t covering my ears instead remains a mystery but I found myself temporarily confused and upset at the sound with no proper ideas on how to make it stop.

After recovering from being completely askew I took a moment to marvel at what an oddity it was.

Sickly sweet with cold metallic elements that grated on your nerves like steel on a chalkboard.

I kept tossing furtive glances over at the roll of duct tape I keep handy for emergencies but thought about that lawsuit and subsequent human element piece that would appear on cnn.com later during the trial.

The tale of the  horrible woman who taped the mouth of a small child while others watched.

That is just not how I want to be remembered people.

Time the Avenger

Never underestimate the sneaky nature of father time.

Ahhh, the fragility of youth.

Today, as I was slathering on my anti aging complex and gulping down the blood of seven virgins I noticed a few things that have gone steadily downhill.

The elasticity was not what it once was and the lines on my forehead seem even more deeply etched than they had been before.

Now it could have been the lighting or that I’ve lost a lot of sleep over the last week or so, but I found it more unsettling than usual.

In years past I was all “ha ha time you’ve yet to catch up to me and put your bony fingers around my neck because of my spry youthful gait, optimistic outlook and good genetics”

Now my imagined youth is in shambles.

It’s these kids!  They sucked all the collagen and life marrow out of me by behaving badly and causing my face to set with this furrowed brow and permanent agonized grimace.

There should be some sort of workmen’s compensation for my reduced attractiveness. Perhaps I should have set up a fund they could have contributed to during windfalls like birthday’s and first communions?

The untimely demise of my once good looks and properly placed body parts has probably been a more sluggish process than I’d care to admit. I’ve just been too busy to pay any attention until it was too late. Quite honestly the death of beauty should have shot to the forefront after I was recently shown photos where I had a hard time reconciling the person before me and the person I thought I was inside my head.

For so long I have been so sure of the immutable nature of my perpetual youth that I never bothered to consider father time would soon be shuffling up beside me.

So, age, infirmity and general unattractiveness , you can now consider this your warning to cease and desist because I’m coming for you.
Have done with it because the party over here has shut down. Go work your nightmarish aging magic on some granola ass dirty hippy who has embraced the life process and wants to grow old gracefully with wisdom and understanding .

I’m going to annihilate your sorry self with four hundred-dollar a bottle pig uterus lifting gel and a blow torch if I have to.

Invariably, I will win this war because of my mutant powers and a will of steel that helps preserve one’s youthful qualities just like formaldehyde.

I am also prone to explosive fits of rage and lots of seething when I don’t get the desired results I’m looking for (which in this case is non vampire related eternal Joan Collins/Julie Christy type  youth).

So thanks for coming by for a test run and helping harden my resolve for the battle ahead. The struggle for my very soul, you ego killing silent creep!
The call to arms has gone out. Let the war begin.