I just want to point out that I am unfailingly organized, responsible and put-together. As such, I wouldn't have to worry about heading to Wal-Mart (where I definitely do NOT shop ever, even in an emergency-ish situation, which this was... not) on an empty stomach and ending up with such low blood-sugar that I nearly fainted in the parking lot. And since that would be irresponsible, I wouldn't ever have snagged a bag of Fun-Sized Snickers, opened the bag and devoured 8 of them in a very short span, stuffing the wrappers back into the bag. Therefore I wouldn't ever have to deal with the embarrassment of sheepishly telling the lady at the checkout that, no, I don't want to get a different bag because I was the one who opened it, but thanks for looking out for me.
And speaking of organization, that particular trait of mine is what kept me from making a huge Thanksgiving-like feast of turkey and all the trimmin's and forgetting an entire dish in the microwave, not to be discovered until later when we were cleaning up after the meal. That would just be embarrassing.
Likewise, my responsibleness always prevents me from suffering the consequences of not believing my toddler when he said in the bathtub, "Poop!" because I would never assume he was just being a boy. And thankfully, too, because I can only imagine the mess that ensues from a big ol' turd winding up in the tub amidst 80% of the alphabet and myriad transportation toys at 8:30 pm. I can merely postulate as to how obnoxious it would be to drain the water, re-soap a shivering toddler, rinse him and then bleach the tub and toys in the 30 minutes before bedtime. Good grief, that would be a mess, I'm sure! Can you picture a harried mom scrubbing out a tub shouting down the stairs, "Hang on, I'm washing poo, I'll be right there, just watch your football I'm almost done!" and looking down at the old maternity pants (note: I would never be caught dead 5 months post-partum wearing maternity pants) she's wearing and cursing the bleach spot on the knee thinking, "Great, now I have to find a grungy pair of sweatpants to wear."? It's a pathetically laughable image, isn't it?
Thank goodness that's not me!
I love being a mom at all times. Every single solitary moment of my life is bliss. So I wouldn't ever need to escape the chaos for any amount of time by taking an extra long "potty break" where I sat on the toilet long after my bladder was empty, behind a closed door, paging through a Pottery Barn catalogue longing to snuggle into the super comfy bed that should just buy because of course we can afford it.
And since my husband doesn't ever read this, I would never have to stammer an excuse for last week's non-admission of some crush I have on Mover Rich... an excuse that simply ended in something mumbled about how it would never work out because he's a drummer and I prefer engineers.
Being the supermom I am, I wouldn't have just allowed one twin to kick the other in the temple while they play on the floor watching Mover Rich and his cronies on Playhouse Disney because a) I don't let my kids watch TV, b) I wouldn't ever put Imagination Movers on without my toddler home because that's creepy and c) I'm ALWAYS playing with my babies every single moment of the day.
And I am certainly not guilty of eating the cold, greasy remnants of Jack's toast that were left on the train table from
last night hopefully this morning's breakfast because I'm desperately trying NOT to go into the kitchen and polish off the rest of the Snickers bag that I *ahem* didn't buy.
So, tell me. Am I the only person out there that is just so awesome as to not have to worry about any of those things? Do share...