That’s it. I’ve made up my mind. I’m running away.
This mom-thing is exhausting, the pay is lousy, and I don’t even get a single day off. Besides, these kids are entirely too stinky and messy. Today I came home to discover the entire first floor of my house smelling like feet. Not just any feet, but godawful, what-died-in-here, apocalyptic smelly ones. Even the dog, a creature that enjoys sniffing other dogs’ butts, whined to get outside and away from the smell. I couldn’t blame her. It was like being assaulted by an entire locker room of stink as soon as I opened the door. I would pay handsomely for an air freshener that could successfully eradicate the odor of stinky boy-feet that have spent an entire school day in soggy sneakers but so far, none exist.
I’ve tried escaping to the bathroom in an effort to get away from the kids, but no matter how quiet I am, those buggers always find me. They slip notes, homework, and permission slips under the door as if I’m in there bored, looking for something to do. Occasionally, I’ll see fingers or an eyeball peering under the gap at the bottom of the door. When the youngest one tried to stuff a banana that he couldn’t peel under the door, I knew I’d reached my last straw. Running away has become my only option.
When I go, I’m going to do it the right way, not like that Pennsylvania woman who pretended she was kidnapped but instead had run away with her nine-year-old daughter to Disney World. No sirree. For starters, I’m going to run away by myself, which is how you’re supposed to do it. No one will pay attention to a slightly neurotic middle-aged woman with bags under her eyes and a nest-like mess of hair on her head, but they will notice a cute nine-year-old child who isn’t in school.
I can’t take that chance, especially since my nine-year-old is a talker and has a tendency to reveal embarrassing family moments when under pressure. Actually, not much pressure at all is needed to convince this child to spill it. He once fessed up to spraying chocolate milk on the kitchen ceiling and all I had to do was look at him.
I’m not going to run away like my son Ryan did when he was five, either. After determining that I was the meanest mother ever, Ryan gathered his most important belongings together (his pillow, a Hot Wheels car, and some Pokemon cards) inside a blue bandana and tied it onto a long stick just as he’d seen nearly every cartoon character do.
He loudly announced that he was leaving home since I’d been “bad” to him, and with a great slam of the front door, he was gone. I watched as he slowly walked around the cars in our driveway, glancing back at the house every so often. His blue bandana kept sliding down the stick, forcing him to stop long enough to push it back up again. Eventually, he made it to the end of our driveway and to his hiding place behind a small red maple tree in our front yard. From the living room window, I could see him perfectly, peering from behind the tree toward the house. He was only about 20 yards away.
He looked so small and sad out there, as if he’d regretted his decision the moment he walked out the front door. After a few minutes, I lured him back in the house with a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich, cut on the diagonal, and a glass of cold milk. We didn’t talk about why he felt the need to run away, but he never again accused me of being “bad” to him and he never again tried to run away.
When I run away, I’m going to do things quite differently from Ryan. First of all, I’m going to bring a suitcase instead of a bandana as I plan on staying away for longer than fifteen minutes. Secondly, I’m going to go much farther than the front yard. Bora Bora is probably far enough. Lastly, I won’t come home simply because someone made me lunch. Oh no. Getting me to come back home is going to require something really big; something that will enhance the lives of mothers everywhere.
I’m holding out for that super-strong air freshener.
Photo of Bora Bora from http://www.thetravelerszone.com/travel-destinations/25-stunning-pictures-of-bora-bora/
Comments
This is a funny, snappy piece, worthy of Erma.
But ... somehow these dang kids manage to find me and bring me back home ... ;o)
Rated
Rita - Oh noooooo...not Axe. I'm trying to get rid of the feet smell, not enhance it with the smells of simmering sofa and cat pee.
Rebelmom - Yep, they always find us, don't they?
Kathy - Wow - thank you so much!
Bonnie - A closed door is like catnip for kids. They're unable to resist it.
Foolish Monkey - And I love you back. :) Such nice compliments! I haven't tried newspapers, just figuring they're all about as broke as I am, but it gives me a lift that you consider my writing worthy of such a venue. Thank you!
Eva - I totally hear you. Thanks for once again being so supportive of me.
CherylAnneNY - Oh, I feel for you. Puking children are the WORST.
(Try those solid salt deodorant rocks on their feet - it's supposed to really work. )
Good piece, Lisa. Fun and oh, so true! Good luck with the smelly feet thing--you'll need it! Rated. D
I am giggling now at the vivid imagery I get from the read.
Too much fun.
The idea is enticing too. Tropical isles.
Maybe you could organize an adults-only OS meetup at the Kalahari (sp?) water park in Ohio, kind of half-way between you and Michigan. I hear they serve huge, free-refillable margaritas there. We could all show up wearing blue bandanas.
:) Gotta love 'em, Mom. Stinky feet and all.
Motherhood is a blessing, right? Cause that's what they told me and if that was a lie, I WANT MY MONEY BACK!!!
You rocked it, girl. You always do!
I was just going to stay on the train and either knit or read.
I completely sympathize!
Very wonderful writing, by the way.
(I spent most of the fall wondering what died in my living room, or if our new dog peed on the carpet. It was my son's soccer cleats by the front door!)
Rated.
You know I have three of my own. Can't we run away together?
Recently, I had to start locking the bathroom door. I'm sure you understand why.
Sound good?
Don't get me wrong. I Love my little guys to pieces but if I don't go somewhere exotic once a year by myself I think I'd
lose my mind.
Gad, sneakers + sock + sweat + winter. I'll bet you long for true spring.
Ever.
NOT that I'm trying to dissuade you from absconding, but have you tried Febreze? It works pretty well on Stinkfoot.
Some foul language at the beginning of that, so those with sensitive ears beware.
Highly rated.
Can I meet you in Bora Bora? Or perhaps Easter Island? That may be even further off the beaten path...Both the husband and the daughter were away for several hours last Saturday - I took a nap.
THEN the image of Bora Bora...
Great post.
Now that I'm mostly rattling around by myself in the house those days seem far off, but this brought back memories.
As I was reading this, I was thinking how the mom character on In The Middle really is accurate. Have you watched that show? It's really funny.
Rated
Ardee - Solid deodorant rocks, huh? I am SO going to look for them. Thanks!
AtHomePilgrim - I'm so glad you got a chuckle out of this. That makes the smelly feet worth it. :)
Owl - I'm starting to think that more MOMS than kids run away (or at least want to.)
Yarn Over - I know I will miss them when they're gone, and I feel guilty sometimes for wanting time alone. Still, those feet...I'd be perfectly fine if that smell went away and never came back.
Mission - I'm so happy that you enjoyed this piece. When we all run away to Bora Bora, you're definitely coming along.
Maria - Refillable margaritas? I'm so there! Wouldn't that be a fun time. Hmmm...now you've got me thinking...
Ann - Thank you, my friend. By the way, feel free to pass on any stinky foot cure that you might have learned from having five kids, OK? My nose can't take much more.
Blue in TX - You nailed it; "crashing in like Kramer" is EXACTLY what it's like when kids ignore a closed bathroom door. You poor dear. I think I hear Bora Bora calling you, too.
Ann - Choosing between foot smell and Axe is like choosing between hemorrhoids and cold sores. Neither one is going to be pleasant!
charliemk - Oh, getting couple time is even more difficult than getting alone time. So it's tough till they're 30, huh? Excuse me while I get my Prozac refilled.
Joan - I think that having more than one definitely increases the desire to run away. It's you vs. them. They always win. Always.
Densie - Yes, we all understand except for my mother; I was a delightful,non-stinky child every day (kidding!)
Anne - I LOVE the book Holes! The father in the movie is Henry Winkler. I just spent 30 minutes trying to remember his name. :)
Cartouche - Thank you! Such a nice compliment, especially since it comes from you. :)
Froggy - I feel your pain about hunting for the source of the stink. I'm glad you finally found it and hopefully have banished the smelly shoes to the garage.
Rita - Thank you! XOXO
Shaggy - You're a good boy to want to give your mom a vacation. I wish my kids would do that. By the way, your new Axe fragrance is the best. Everyone wants to smell like wet dog, right? Especially since cat pee is so popular.
Ocular - Of course she did; Saturdays are the best days to run away.
V - Yes, you can come with me. I call the bottom hammock!
Denise - I totally understand. Remember what Blue in TX said about her son crashing into the bathroom like Kramer. It's best to just lock the door.
Lea - You're the best. XOXO
Lisa - Please tell me your secret; how on earth did you keep your son's feet from stinking? I thought it happened to all of them, kind of like acne or their first heartbreak.
Eden - DEAL! Bora Bora it is.
Sally - I was terribly blocked, for all of last week and most of this one. It just goes to show that sometimes the muse shows up in the most unlikely places - sometimes even in foot stink.
boysofsummer - It's hard to imagine now, but someday, we probably will miss all of it.
Connie - Great to see you, girl! And you are so right; wearing boots for weeks on end hasn't been helping things.
angrymom - Oh. My. Gosh. I've never been more grateful to have the Potty Years behind me as I am right now after reading your comment. You sound like you need Bora Bora even more than I do.
Bill - Frank Zappa! I'd totally forgotten about that one. Thank you for stopping by, my friend.
Bluesurly - Naps are almost as good as Bora Bora.
Algis - Thank you! You've probably actually been to Bora Bora. Is it really as lovely as the photo? I'm holding out hope for Someday...
mcginmn - Thank you! If you start to miss the smell and the mess, let me know and I'll send my boys over.
Gwendolyn - Do you mean Malcolm in the Middle? That show is a hoot!
Akopsa - Yes, running away is best done alone - or with other moms who understand the need for running away in the first place. :)
littlewillie - Thank you!
Deborah - I'm glad my suffering could give you something to write about it. :)
jkujhui jhuli - Ordinarily I'd delete you, but I'm feeling merciful today since you made me a flower. Just don't tell your friends, OK?
I think I would rather run away to Siberia though... the KAMCHATKA area... near... Klyuchevskoy
Writer Mom - You have TWIN boys? Plus a boy and a girl? You don't need condolescences, you need a party - and respite! Thanks for the tip about bathroom hiding.
Picturing Joan's daughter being informed, " What a coincidence... you mother just go the position of house mother ...six degrees of separation.. huh? ..." didn't hurt matters.
I remember when I ran away from home as a kid, packed some carrot and lettuce seeds and hid under a neighbors bush and planted them, thinking they would bring me enough food to survive. That lasted until my mom leaned out the front door and rang our dinner bell...never even noticed I had run away!
mamoore - You packed carrot and lettuce seeds? That is too cute, but when we go to Bora Bora, I hope you bring something more substantial - and already grown.
Mrs. Raptor - I wasn't aware that Siberia had anything but snow, so now I'm heading off to Google. Thanks for the education I'm about to receive. :)
Gary - Even your comments are a delight. Thank you. XOXO
But first I have a single word for you: Ozium. (google if necessary).
Wendyo - Thanks for the practical advice. I did google Ozium. That sounds like what I need - something INDUSTRIAL STRENGTH. Can you believe they actually have it at Amazon?
Sally - Oh, girl...I don't know how I missed your Asspray post, but that informercial is the funniest damn thing I've ever seen. Thank you for the gift of laughing so hard my sides hurt. XOXO
R.
Fusun - The fact that you've shared these experiences and are now beyond them is inspiring. Thanks for stopping by.
Caroline - Thank you! I appreciate the kind words.
Bernardine - Wow, two years and still the stink remains? Now I'm really depressed! Thanks for stopping by to commiserate.
Kisses,
Marcela
I love the image of your children pestering you through the bathroom door. Very funny and relatable.