October 2009 by PB Rippey.
(when a week’s worth of domestic business is conducted in 48 hours and no one knows what anyone is doing because it’s just not possible and besides the toddler has broken into and is ransacking the bottom kitchen cupboard and who can remember what dangerous implements might have been tossed in there the last time anyone put anything away—whenever that was?)
Have to deposit those checks…
Oh. I thought I was going to deposit them?
But I thought you just said you were going to.
I said I have to return the library books that are in my car.
So—you’re not going to the bank machine?
I’m taking T to the library, I just said.
But—so I’m going to the bank machine.
I thought you were making dinner.
Look—where are you going right this second? I thought you were taking T to the bank machine.
I’m going to my car to get the library books and the stroller.
And then you’re—strolling him to the bank machine?
No! Then I’m driving him to the library in the minivan!!!
Shhh!!! You’ll scare the baby!!! There he is—he’s concerned!
I’m not screaming, T! Mama’s laughing. Ahhhhhhhhh–ha ha. Because Dadda’s so, so funny!!! Oh, there’s the egg whisk. I thought I’d thrown it out by mistake. Aren’t you a clever sweet potato, finding it. Come here and give mama a kiss! Hm? Aww. Did you just say sheep?
He said hypoteneuse. Okay, are we clear now, babe?
Sure. Clear. Absolutely.
Where am I going?
I have no effing clue.
(sigh) Why don’t you take a nap while we’re gone.
A nap—did you just say I should—listen, I am going to bake potatoes, puree cauliflower, vacuum the living room and mop the floors while you’re going—wherever it is you’re going!
Babe, take it easy. You need to lie down. You need a break, okay? I’m trying to give you a break, here!
(whispered through large, frozen smile) Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…
(sigh #2) Love you, babe.
(hoarsely) Yah, yah. Blrrrrrg.