EPISODE 4 EPISODE 4The kids forgot to put their dishes in the dishwasher. Again.
“That’s IT! If you people can’t cooperate, then THIS government is shutting down!” I shouted while they stared at me from across the kitchen.
They had no idea what I was talking about, but with threats of government shutdown dominating the news that week, I just couldn’t resist. Besides, threatening the kids simply felt good.
With Francis at work much of the time, I was the sole Governor of the Household. The Commander in Chief of the Homefront. The Lord of the Houseflies. I was the legislative, judicial, and executive branches all rolled up into one spatula-wielding dictator.
When the masses defied my authority, I could have, theoretically, staged a government shutdown of my own. Of course, the kids knew my threats were completely idle. Although I couldn’t help but wonder: What if it really happened? …
The kids woke to the loud slam of Mom’s bedroom door.
Peeking through the keyhole, they saw she had dragged the coffee maker, four cans of Pringles, three bottles of wine, and a boxed DVD set of Orange Is the New Black into her room and locked the door.
A sign taped outside read, “Government Shutdown Until Further Notice.”
The three kids—Hayden, Anna and Lilly—stared groggily at the sign for a minute. As reality dawned on them, they turned to each other and grinned.
“Cool!” Lilly exclaimed, “This is gonna be fun!”
In their pajamas, they raced to the kitchen. “I call the rest of the Cap’n Crunch!” Anna shouted, sliding across the tile floor while wearing yesterday’s dirty socks.
“Forget cereal,” Hayden declared, “I’m eating chocolate cake, and I might have a slice of leftover pizza for dessert!”
An hour later, the kids were stuffed and lazing the day away in front of the television, watching a marathon of Jersey Shore and sipping Coca-Cola through Pixy Stix.
However, the toilet clogged midday, the wet laundry in the washing machine started to stink, and the milk ran out. Discovering that the lunch money jar had over twenty bucks in coins, Anna exclaimed, “C’mon guys, let’s go to the store—I’ll make us a feast!”
Hayden stayed home for a fifth hour of Grand Theft Auto, while Lilly emerged from her room dressed in booty shorts, spaghetti string halter top, fuzzy slippers, knotted hair, and two days’ worth of plaque on her teeth. “Ready!”
After their shopping trip, the girls concocted an Ovaltine aperitif accompanied by a delectable chocolate mini-doughnut amuse bouche. The entrée was a lovely microwaved trio de fromage—fried mozzarella sticks, Totino’s cheese pizza, and Hot Pockets—with a generous side of tater tots.
Finding no clean utensils, they ate dessert—a scrumptious brownie chunk ice cream—straight out of the carton with used Popsicle sticks and washed it down with Red Bull.
The party raged on. Bored with Jerry Springer reruns and punching buttons on the microwave, the novelty of anarchy began to wear off around day three.
“When is Mom coming outta there?” Lilly whined.
“I don’t know, but this is starting to get serious,” Anna said. “My cropped jeans need to be washed, and ever since you blew a fuse microwaving that can of ravioli, my curling iron doesn’t work!”
Hayden, recuperating from his video game bender, chimed in, “Yeah, and Mom needs to go to the grocery store. I actually had to eat a banana for breakfast. This is a crisis situation!”
Standing before Mom’s bedroom door, the kids pounded, wailed, and made promises.
When Mom finally emerged, the kids bombard her with desperate hugs and kisses.
“Mom!” they cried, “Don’t ever leave us again! We can’t live without you! We promise we’ll do whatever you want from now on!”
… I awoke from my daydream with a newfound sense of satisfaction. Never mind that staging my own government shutdown was complete fantasy. It had effectively convinced me that, even though my family didn’t realize it, they could never live without me.
A mom can dream, can’t she?