You haven’t heard from SuperWoman in a while.
That’s cause she’s friggin’ busy.
A few weeks ago, she started back at her undercover job as “part-time English instructor,” and, since then, has hardly had time to clean the shit that keeps hitting the fan. Mostly, she’s just looking at the shit up there and all around her, thinking about it, going a little insane about it, but not actually wiping it down.
Do you know why? Because the immense rock—you know, the shit—just rolls right the hell down on top of you all over again, in a matter of minutes.
Last night, SuperWoman and Sisyphus had a cigarette and a conversation about this very dilemma. (Don’t worry–SuperWoman is completely immune from the harmful effects of nicotine and Sisyphus has been dead for a really long time, so he can do what he wants.)
SW: I changed a diaper!
Sisyphus: Here’s another one, hot, ripe and stinking! And your daughter can’t wait to get her hands in it!
SW: I emptied the dishwasher!
Sisyphus: Good. Now put all of those dishes from the sink in there and run it again.
SW: I did a load of laundry!
Sisyphus: Pshaw, my little Amazon woman. Keep ‘em coming. And what, may I ask, do you plan to do with the piles of clothes that are now taking up the bare floor of your bedroom? You know, that place with ruffled sheets where the MTV Cribs celebrities say “the magic happens”?
SW: Well, first I would say shut up to those stupid MTV celebrities. They have cleaning crews who make sure their sheets are clean. They are not superpeople. They just play them on TV.
And next, I would say that you, Sisyphus have a chip on your shoulder. A really big one. And I think you should go deal with it while I finish my glass of wine.
Sisyphus smirks with his beady eyes, assumes the position, and begins his slow, measured journey up the hill.
SuperWoman puts her feet up on the coffee table and proudly surveys her palace.
What the hell is that stuff?
Where did they all come from?
Food for the friggin' ants.
Pantry moths are the most stubborn beasts I've encountered in 2000 years. But they can't peel themselves off a glue trap. Heh-heh.
Laser-beam eyes, often a blessing during battle, can also be a curse. SuperWoman often wishes she were more like her husband, who can only see what’s directly in front of him.
But she has a gift. (Superness.)
She will not let the demands of a house overcome her like a tidal wave.
No.
She is SuperWoman.
And she is going out to buy more wine.
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
Bring on the wine!
I know what you mean by the household chores stacking up. Ugh. Our bedroom floor is covered in clean clothes that I have folded and re-folded at least a billion times but cannot fit into our one dresser. Hmmmm….perhaps I need to get out and buy a dresser?
Anyway. You are superwoman.
Amber recently posted..Be Careful How You Judge
My house looks exactly like that. I take it your daughter has also figured out how to take her diaper off too? Wtf? Don’t feel bad, you and your mess are in good company…with me and mine. :)
Ah, to have the superpower of mess-blindness! Then I could stroll through my house (ouch, there was a lego) merrily (whoops, almost slipped on that dolly’s hair) to the fridge (crap, that was a banana) and look for the wine. Damn. I can’t have that either. Enjoy for me. Maybe I’ll just search for the ice cream. And while you have him around, ask Sisyphus since it’s his damn punishment, why is he sharing it with all of us?
Kate recently posted..Left, left, left right left…
This made me laugh out loud. I love that you and Sisyphus shared a ciggie. The laundry, the dishes, the toy pick up–all tasks that never end. As is the feeding of children…
TheKitchenWitch recently posted..Potato, Leek and Vegetable Soup
Lordy, this made me laugh. Thank you!
Why is it that the men have the fortune of not “seeing”? I want that. Else I need to turn to my nightly cosmo (following my daily Twix) for refuge. And even then, I still see it, but perhaps it just won’t bug me.
Cathy recently posted..today i am