This morning the boys woke up before my alarm and Patrick got up with them. Because he is a wonderful, wonderful man whose mother taught him at an early age to always, always let Mom sleep.
I owe my mother-in-law an enormous debt of gratitude.
Anywho, I had gotten up about 10 minutes later and stepped out of my bedroom when a fully sentient lavender plant punched me right in the nostrils. Yes, you read that sentence correctly. I know as writers, we tend to exaggerate for the sake of a well-crafted story. You’re probably chuckling to yourself about how I am prone to hyperbole.
Nay, says I. ‘Tis no exaggeration. I opened my bedroom door and I was smacked in the face by a solid wall of lavender stench so thick, I needed a chainsaw to cut through it. I staggered down the hallway wondering what the hell was happening. The boys’ bedroom is next to ours and I stumbled through the botanical haze to them. At the doorway I froze.
The boys were standing in their bedroom in their underwear. Tyrus was facing away from Teddy. Teddy was holding a can of Febreze only an inch away from Tyrus’s butt and was spraying away. Both were giggling hysterically.
Some of you may be wondering why my kids were doing something so dumb. To which I ask you, “What is it like not having children? Is it quiet and relaxing? Are surfaces clean and non-sticky? Do you feel decadent peeing in a toilet not filled with Legos?”
Because I know you guys WITH kids are nodding along to this and thinking to yourselves, “Oh yeah. Kids do stupid shit ALL THE TIME for no reason. My kid just tried to microwave a sock.”
I watched them for a full five seconds in stunned silence. Then I took a deep breath, then coughed because lavender, and shrieked, “FEBREZE ISN’T A TOY!”
Both boys jumped about a foot in the air. Teddy’s hand spasmed and he flung the now empty can of Febreze at my feet. This can was half full last night, guys. And that’s not me being an optimist and thinking, “La de dah, the can is half full because I always look for the good side of things.” No, eff that. That half full can was now as empty as my field of fucks. Alas, there are no more for me to give.
The boys had that glazed look on their faces that remind me of a deer in headlights. That “Oh shit, I am so completely borked right now” look. Or maybe their eyes were glazed because of lavendar-scented chemicals. Honestly, who knows? I’m gonna tell my therapist it was just essential oil.
Hi Janel! Just kidding! I’ll call you soon!
Anyway, it took a couple hours for the smell to disappear. Thankfully our house no longer reeks like Senior Citizens Night at Hobby Lobby.