Earlier this week, Lynnette and I were lying in bed together. The room was dark, Madison was asleep, and both of us were minding our own smartphone business. “The Made in Hawaii Festival is this weekend,” Lynnette said. “Mmm,” I replied. I am fairly confident that whatever I was doing was more important than that news. “Kanemitsu Bakery’s going to be there,” she said. I popped out over my covers – four feet above my covers – and turned to Lynnette. “YOU BETTER BRING ENOUGH CASH FOR HOT BREAD!” I whisper-screamed. I flopped on the bed like a fish thrown on hot concrete. I would go on to thank Lynnette for her love because at that moment, I could not imagine another woman willing to commit her life to me.
Madison had a meltdown of the nuclear variety at school Thursday morning. Just a day earlier, she said “I want to go to school every day, already.” That led me to believe she was too tired because she went to bed too late. She’s learning a sad truth the hard way: it’s hard to shake off summer.
Lynnette crawled down to Madison’s futon this morning to cuddle. Immediately, Abby found a way to wedge herself between mom and Mad. I didn’t see it, but I knew it would happen. “Stop it, Abby!” Madison said. Abby just can’t help herself. Morning mouth is soooo tempting.
Madison was sluggish again this morning. “What’s wrong?” I said. “My school is so long,” she said. “It’s the same as Cornerstone,” I replied. “No, it’s not,” Mad said. “It’s because there’s no nap time,” Lynnette said. I looked at Mad. She looked away. Of course she couldn’t admit that she needed to nap. It would have been like R. Kelly discovering that can’t fly; it would have destroyed her entire belief system.
Before leaving, Lynnette finally got around to cutting my hair. She gave the 4-guard-on-the-fingers thing a shot, but it didn’t take. “Just 4-guard all of it,” I said, resigned to defeat. We’re looking at a month or so until I have to use product in my hair again. Sad.
I thought that we would arrive at the Made in Hawaii Festival early, and we did – right at opening. But it appeared that anyone who wasn’t working today had descended upon the Blaisdell Center. It was packed. The three of us braved the crowd and made it through every aisle in the exhibition hall. Lynnette scored a few deals on accessories while Madison hunted for samples. I waited patiently until we moved across to the arena. I finally got my hot bread. Confession: I tried to make an Instagram video of the lady making my three loaves of hot bread, but it was so shaky. Probably because I was too excited. I may or may not eat a loaf in a single sitting. I feel like I can afford to do that once a year. Go ahead and judge me if you want. I’ll be too busy eating hot bread while hearing “Ribbon in the Sky” in my head.
I thought that the hot bread was going to be the highlight of my day, but it wasn’t. In fact the highlight of the day came on our way to the Blaisdell. Lynnette and I were talking and somehow we arrived (again) on the topic of Madison, speaking about her like she wasn’t in the car. “I love that girl so much,” Lynnette said. “I would eat ketchup for her,” she added. Lynnette hates ketchup. I laughed, and before I even finished my chuckle, I said, “What does the gauntlet look like?” “What?” Lynnette said.
“What would be the toughest things for you to do if Madison and I were hanging in a cage above a tank of great white sharks?” I asked. This is what we came up with. Lynnette’s commentary is in lime green.
Perform the following tasks without wearing makeup, in front of an audience of her ex-boyfriends and their families…
Going out without wearing makeup is like the biggest gamble. I think to myself, “I’m just gonna pop into Longs for one thing, which shouldn’t take more than three minutes…” and BOOM– I’ll run into two people I know. People that I have not seen in years, and of course they (unlike myself) are looking awesome and well put together. This sort of thing never happens when I’m wearing a new outfit, having a good hair day, and my makeup is freshly done.
…enter a room full of my Tupperware lunch containers in plastic grocery bags, then have to wash them and put them away in the pantry…
My. Absolute. Biggest. Pet. Peeve. On Friday afternoons, I can always count on being greeted by a plastic bag full of empty Tupperware containers sitting on the kitchen counter. These are Phil’s lunch containers that have been sitting in his classroom all week, collecting dust, and mold. He doesn’t even bother rinsing them out after he finishes lunch, so you can imagine what the remnants of Monday’s hamburger patties with gravy looks like on Friday evening. Phil always suggests purchasing a new box of Premier Tupperware whenever we’re at Costco, but I refuse. I know that he secretly wants to be able to bring home his Tupperware collection from school in two-week increments, instead of the current one-week routine.
…do the worm across across a 20-foot container of B-52 cockroaches…
The only time I have ever killed a roach is when Madison was about 2 months old and Phil wasn’t home. I felt the intense need to protect my child from this invader in our home. My motherly instincts kicked in and I chased that sucker down the hall, continuously spraying it with my signature bug-killer mixture of water and dish soap. Seriously, it works. Ten soapy feet later, I finally defeated it. Needless to say, I left it for Phil to pick up and discard when he got home from work.
I hate killing roaches. Crunch. Squish. Semi-liquid bug guts everywhere. Yuck.
This is one of the main reasons I got married. I think my dad was getting really sick and tired of waking up at 3 in the morning to rescue me from those little suckers.
…suck the ketchup out of 10 individual packets…
I shudder at the thought. I abhor ketchup. The taste, the smell…
Don’t go judging me people. I seriously gave it a chance. I tried it as a child and I really don’t like it. It’s the reason I order all my burgers plain… and drive my husband insane whenever we go to McDonald’s, Burger King, or any other burger joint.
…all while wearing a thong.
Yes, I do own several pairs. I will wear them when my outfit necessitates it. I admit that I used to wear them more frequently in my younger days. Back then, I wouldn’t think twice about wearing form-fitting clothing. They went well with my collarbones, after all.
However, after having Madison, let’s just say that there has been some additions to my womanly figure. Phil simply says that I’m “shapelier.” Well, when one becomes “shapelier,” one needs a little more support and containment at the rear. Thus, the butt floss makes very rare appearances. (Much to Phil’s chagrin.)