According to a footnote in the laws of life, brought to my
attention by my twelve-year old daughter, I am not allowed to grow old. It doesn’t matter that I was forty when I had
her, I am obligated to look as young as the thirty-something mothers of her
friends. This means coloring my gray hair
is strictly enforced, as is not showing up at school looking like I’ve
spent the day painting, because thirty-something moms would never do that, even
if they had spent the day painting. Duh!
As it turns out, my children are experts on the laws of life,
particularly any provisos, footnotes, and addendums that have to do with their
mother. Here is just a sampling:
1. Due to an unhealthy fixation which led to me once being mistaken
for a gondolier, I am no longer allowed to wear striped shirts. The staff at
Marshall’s has been notified and are on high alert.
2. Regardless of the number of trips I make to Costco, Sam’s
Club, Publix, Winn Dixie, Food Guy, Snack Guru, and Freakin’ Donut, I can never
be told that there’s food in the kitchen.
The refrain from all McKendrick children must be, There’s nothing to eat! including on, but not limited to, major holidays.
3. Because of having shown a tendency to take as
long to explain a book as it might take for someone to read it, I am not allowed to tell
my daughter, Victoria, about the works of J.R.R. Tolkien. This obscure footnote was discovered by Victoria after she fled a slowly moving vehicle while I digressed from an explanation of the political landscape of Middle Earth to mention the importance of birthdays to Hobbits.
4. While I have earned a reluctant chuckle from my oldest
son from time to time, it doesn’t change the fact that there is a law against
me telling jokes, particularly to his peers.
Witty repartee is tolerated, as are insightful one-liners, but anything
that begins something like, Two priests
and a rabbi walked in to bar, anything with a big set up, that is verboten. This was first brought to my attention when while
telling a joke to my son’s friends, he gave me a dry look and slid a finger
across his neck. Subtle, and yet it got
the point across.
5. I am not allowed
sole ownership of a pack of gum.
6. I am to be roundly
mocked for not wanting my children to get sunburned, even though getting a
severe burn before the age of 15, increases your chances of getting a melanoma
by five times the normal rate.
7. I am not to be left in charge of turtles or hermit crabs.
The backyard is littered with graves because of my negligence.
8. In accordance with the rules set forth at an
international summit on aggravation, I am to anticipate that I will, on the
average, need to ask a child five times to do something before they get around
to doing it.
9. According to Samuel, my oldest, there is a rule that I am to occasionally thank my children profusely (tears,
kisses, the whole nine yards), and consider it an accomplishment equal to
winning the Nobel prize, that they have never needed to do a stint in rehab.
10. And last, even if I’m addressing the UN, I need to pick
up the phone when they call, because despite my many shortcomings, my kid needs to talk to
their mother when they feel like it. That's the law!
