Mom Magnet

6 years ago

I, my friends, am a magnet.


Pictures of magnets I actually own. Seriously.

Perhaps this has something to do with my inability to wear watches.  They just don't work on me.  But I love 'em, and have several cute, chunky versions still packed away somewhere fromThe Move.  {I plan to unearth these one fine day and post pictures of them.  

But naturally.  It's what I do}.


I am a magnet because no matter where I go in the house:  to the bathroom, to my bedroom for a bit of solitude, or into the shower to relax in the warm water, wash my hair and wonder when we're ever gonna finish that top bit where the transom is supposed to go -someone follows me.

No, strike that.

Everyone follows me.

A few days ago I decided to retreat from my desk in the rather noisy family room.  I hauled both laptops, a pillow, a blanket, a space heater (it's cold in there), a fan for "noise control", a cuppa tea, my water bottle, and several notebooks into the library.  A quiet place.  Filled with books and interesting pictures which would inspire and relax me merely with their presence.

a too dark picture of the library

It worked for about 10 minutes.  

Then everyone found me.

I had heard the voices:  Hey! Where's mom?  What's Mom diong?  What happened to Mom!

This is odd.  Particulary when one considers the following:

One fine day, several months ago in the midst of winter, I drove down to the bus stop to meet Girly Girl.  On the way home we had a flat tire.

Something I had never done before.

 Well, except for those other two times.  But Scott was with me then and all I had to do was hand him various tool (I actually know most of their names, even that one that resembles a T-Rex in profile.  Unfortunately it's name escapes me at the moment...).

Anyway - We had a flat tire, (shredded is a more apt term) and, following a long series of most irritating and cold events - involving about 10 people stopping to offer assistance, three men and two teenage boys (and me) attempting to remove and install the spare tire, (we were entirely unsuccessul); suffice to say I finally returned home.

After about 2 hours.

Did anyone miss me then?

I think not.

Okay - Coyote did call me on my cell.  Though not until I'd been gone for nearly an hour (it's a 10 minute roundtrip drive to the bus stop).

Yet.....when I go into my bedroom or the bathroom, everyone shows up:  What cha doing in your room?

  They hover outside the bathroom door:  What are you doing in there?.

I naturally reply What do you think?

{Usually followed by:  Who used all the toilet paper!  Augh...Someone hand me some toilet paper!}

Being a mom is an interesting experience.

clipart of someone who isn't me taking a bubble bath


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