"Just as your mother had duh-uh-un, when my mind joined the Twilight Zone." <- (Hum "If You Could Read My Mind. The title & first sentence will make more sense..)
Gordon Lightfoot and his sultry song of sadness not only prevented me from committing Hara Kiri on my kids cheap, giant, stuffed animals, but he saved my dishes, antiques and anything else that crash when they hit a wall from an untimely death.
Along with my sanity.
Because last week blew chunks.
Not only had the stomach flu made it's way through my house and through five of our six kids mouths, but the high school and grade school decided it was perfect timing for a "fall break."
After only two months in school.
And I was not yet mentally prepared for this so called "break" because it meant that not only would I be giving up my new found three hours a day of silence, but that there would be anywhere between two and six extra kids in my house for the next five days since I'm a glutton for punishment.
And the neighborhood babysitter. And a master of pizza rolls. And a referee.
Oh, and I should probably add that I was in throws of depression since two of my favorite T.V. shows were cancelled and my book is still in its "last minute revision mode."
Which means I won't be getting that new microwave oven or toaster yet.
Dang nab it.
So by day three of my confinement as a slave to the kids every desire to maintain peace and save my living room furniture from becoming stuffing for my children's featherless pillows, (The feathers were strewn all over after the last pillow fight) I realized that the only quiet I was going to get was if I stayed up until midnight watching child inappropriate television.
Because PG-13 scares the hell out of them.
And wouldn't ya just know it? 14 trillion channels and not one thing to watch. So I flipped a coin when I decided to choose between a Val Kilmer movie I hadn't seen yet, or another Zumba infomercial.
I guess I should have read the movie description because "Wonderland" ended up being just a bit too intense for me. Considering my mental state and all.
And the fact that "If You Could Read My Mind" ended up getting stuck in my head so much for the next five days that I sang it all the time without realizing it. And because the kids had heard me sing it so much they started changing the words around, thus ruining a perfectly good cry-along-song.
So I decided to change the words to better fit my current domestic situation.
And good thing I did because the words had me chuckling to myself, and it helped save the children's little hineys from the fly swatters I had engraved their names on.
And my new top ten hit went a bit like this: (But first let me recommend scrolling to the bottom of the post to play the song so you can sing along with my new lyrics.)
If you could read my mind kids, you would all run away from home. Just as your mother had duh-uh-un, when my mind joined the Twilight Zone.
In a dark bathroom, or under your beds, that yelling you hear is me, calling you to do chores...and you will never be set free as long as your rooms smell like cat's pee-pee.
If I could read your minds kids, I'd hit my head on the bathroom wall, just like I did last Tuesday, when I found that your clothes can crawl.
When I threw them down, on your toilet seat, they tried to run away, but I hit them with a stick.
You won't wear those clothes again because I burned them in the laundry bin.
*Insert violin/guitar solo*
I'd walk away from your bedroom door, and call in the hazmat team, to save you from my wrath, because your bathrooms look so bad and your trashcans flow with last nights dinner, spam.
But for now kids, move along.
I never thought rooms could look this way, and I've got to say that I just don't get it. I don't know where I went wrong but your iPods gone and you'll never get it back...."