So I am checking out today at Trader Joes and suddenly the check out guy thinks I am his best friend. He doesn't want to stop with the customary, "How are you today?" Which I answer with a complete and utter lie (as is customary), "Fine." No; he goes on to ask what the rest of my day holds. Really?!
I almost blurt out that after a weekend of complete self-doubt, angst over parenting, and over-analyzing the bulk of my life, I am off to wrestle my most likely uncooperative child into a swim suit and shuffle him off to swim lessons, after which I will run home and prepare a beautiful, orgainic, gourmet meal for my family of five, then, while he is kicking and screaming I'll put my child to bed because my husband just doesn't seem to be able to make it happen before nine, then for dessert I think I'll have a very difficult conversation with one of my dearest relatives. Perhaps I can even find time to make my famous granola later in the evening. I mean really, WTF? Is he expecting this sort of answer? No. He wants to hear what I tell him, which is that I am off make dinner and soak in the tub. Perhaps that's my real fantasy: that all I will have left to do at the end of the day is make dinner and soak in the tub.
It sure sounds good right about now.