3 posts tagged “edith”
Okay, I know that none of my VOX friends (except Jane) actually live in Arlington. But I must tell all of you about my mother's art opening this weekend. It is at the Arlington Arts Center and she is putting on her first solo show. She is a fabulous artist. And I am not just saying that because she paints pictures of Maggie. REALLY. She is. Here are some paintings from her last show, a few years ago.
My mom and dad came about a month ago to take care of Maggie for twelve days while we were in China. It was such an amazing, generous thing that they did. And Maggie had so much fun! I think my parents really had a good time, too. And, of course, knowing that Maggie was in good hands made our trip so much less stressful! What a blessing. *
Now, I needed to put that preface there, so that no one thinks that I do not appreciate my parents. I DO!! Honestly. They are wonderful. However....my mother did this one teeny tiny thing while I was away in China that now has me cursing her several times a day.
She cleaned my toilets.
She has always had a thing about cleaning my toilets. I totally could understand why she felt the need to do so when we were in college. Because that toilet in the lodge where I lived senior year was NASTY! Worse than a frat house. I am a little ashamed of that stage in my life...
When I moved to my own apartment in Arlington, she never tried to clean that toilet, that I can remember. She was very conscious of "giving me my own space". So that was good.
A few years later, in California, the toilet in my little house where I was a nanny...okay, not so clean. But not gross. And I always did a serious cleaning spree whenever I knew my parents were coming to visit! I owned Ajax toilet cleaner, I believe. Maybe not a mop, but I did have supplies for cleaning the toilet. One day, I came home from work and found my mom on her hands and knees scrubbing that toilet. AKKKKKK. I was mortified.
And now, here I am, living in my first ever home. I don't have full time job except this house (and Maggie) and so it is a point of pride that my toilets are reasonably clean. They are!
But when I came back from China, this is what I found...
Oh my God! How scary is this? This is how all my toilet bowls look! We have three toilets. It looks like a smurf has died in each and everyone of them! Who puts these things in their toilet bowl tanks? My mother certainly does NOT do this in her own house. Are my toilet bowls really SO dirty that they warrant such attention? And did you know that if you try to remove the little blue alka seltzer tablets from your toilet, they get worse? And dissolve all over anything they touch? Kevin went around for a whole day looking like he had voted in the Iraq elections.
Oh, and also? Two of the three toilets will now no longer flush properly...For some reason, the slowly dissolving granules of blueness wedge their way into the toilet flap and clog up the flushing mechanics. Not good. Especially when a tidy toilet bowl is the ultimate goal. Ahem.
And so, I must ask my friends out there if there is anything that your mothers have done, in an attempt to be helpful, that just about drove you to madness....
*Once again, let me just say that I love my mother and honestly want both her and my father to come back soon. And she knows my feelings on this whole toilet situation and has promised not to fling anything in my toilet tank ever again.
A MOUSE!!!!!
We have a mouse in our house. Actually, we have a whole family of them. They live in our kitchen. And I guess that I kind of knew this. I saw the signs. Tiny little poop pellets under the sink. At first there were only a few scattered here and there, hidden behind the cleaning supplies, peeking out from under the trash can, not enough to warrant concern. I told Kevin that we needed to do something. (translation: "Kevin do something") and then promptly I would become distracted by the ten billion other things that needed to be done and didn't involve killing a poor defenseless creature. And besides, I'm not afraid of mice! That is what I told myself. I have always made a point of never acting afraid of harmless creatures: snakes, spiders, mice, etc... I've always thought it was important not to buy into that helpless woman role. Ahem.
But then...the mouse got bold. It pooped all over the rim of the trash can. I could no longer ignore it.
If he had been perched on the edge of the trashcan when I pulled it out, well, I had to admit to myself, I would have freaked out. That is all I can say. I realized I had to explore under that dark and cavernous sink to see the full extent of the infestation. What I found horrified me. And I can't believe I am putting this up for other people to see, but LOOK!
Akkkkk akkkk akkkkk! This is what I saw when I pulled out the brown paper bag collection I had next to the trash can. And when I kept investigating, my eyelids started twitching. I couldn't even bring myself to pull everything out, so sure was I that a ravenous mouse would LEAP out at me at any second. And I don't know, hang by it's teeny teeth from my shinbone? Go for my jugular? I'm not sure. I didn't want to find out.
Also....ick ick ick...in the back corner of the cabinet was a big old bag of napkins. And I was absolutely POSITIVE that inside the napkins, nestled ever so gently, would be a big nest of pink, hairless, mewling baby mice. Ewww! I slammed the door shut and called Kevin.
He was NOT helpful -- "Set a Trap."
I didn't want to be a mouse killer! That is what husbands are for. But then, all of a sudden, from behind the closed doors of the cabinet, I heard "Squeak, squeak" No kidding! It was so loud. Like the mouse was mocking me! "Come and get me, suckah!" he was saying. "Squeak squeak. Bring it on, Lady!"
FINE.
So, I pulled out the mousetrap. (and for those of you lamenting my use of a mouse killer trap, I will just say that we tried the "no kill" ones before. They don't work.) I was having the hardest time figuring out how to do it. The bag was ripped where the directions were printed so they were impossible to read. I called Kevin again, for pointers. As I talked to him, I managed to send the trap winging across the room, splattering the walls with creamy peanut butter, and narrowly missing my left forefinger. Nice. Talking on the telephone and setting a mousetrap do not mix. I eventually figured it out on my own.
But then...then...I had to open the cabinet doors to put the mousetrap in there. I was freaking out. I was sure that the mouse was going to rush me, or something. I don't know. I was picturing something out of Cujo, I guess. Like I would open the doors, and the mouse would be waiting, with foam dripping from his pointy whiskered nose. Plus, I had the mousetrap to contend with. I was positive it was on some sort of hairtrigger and would snap at any second. The fact that my hands were shaking was not helping. Can anyone say "Irrational"? I know, I know! But I couldn't help it. Slowly, I tiptoed to the door...
And I put the mousetrap inside the door. But then, I was sure that Maggie and I would be there when Mr. Mouse met his demise. And he would be squeaking and gurgling and hurling himself against the cabinet doors in his death throes. So we went out for the morning until it was time for her to go to school.
When I got home, I called my mom, and told her about the mouse situation. She scoffed at me. While I talked to her, I peeked inside the cabinet, then slammed it quickly shut again. YIKES! Dead mouse! That was fast. Ewwww, but then I needed to do something about the dead mouse! Wouldn't it start to stink soon? WHERE WAS MY HUSBAND WHEN I NEEDED HIM????
I sat down on the sofa to discuss the disposal of the dead mouse with my mother. And while I did that? Another mouse. A different mouse. Ran. Across. The. Room.
I swear to God. I think I leapt 20 feet in the air. And of course, I screamed bloody murder. It was so ridiculous! It was so patently stereotypically girly girl "eeek a mouse!" That I cracked up. And alternated between moans of disgust and wheezes of laughter
"What should I do now?" I asked my mom.
"Well, I guess that's that. You'd better get on a plane and fly home to Arlington." She said.
I'm tempted.
