Christmas is six days away. My spreadsheet has fourteen unfinished tasks. The elf is missing. And my mother has asked three times whether we’re having turkey. We are not having turkey. We had turkey at Thanksgiving. I have explained this. She’ll ask again. Ben’s family came over Saturday afternoon for an early Christmas. His sister…
Ben gave me Saturday off. A whole Saturday. No groceries. No laundry. No school stuff. No Nora asking me where her other sock is while wearing it. “Go do something for yourself,” he said. I stared at him. “Like what?” “Whatever you want.” Dangerous words. I hadn’t been asked what I wanted without a follow-up…
It’s December. The most wonderful time of the year. According to people who aren’t responsible for making it wonderful. I have a Christmas spreadsheet. Seven tabs. One of them is called HIS MOTHER (HIS DEPARTMENT). It’s colour-coded. I’m not proud of myself. Actually, I am. On Monday, Nora came home with a letter to Santa….
My mother called on Monday. “Darling, do you have a minute?” I was at work. I had eleven emails open, a coffee I’d already reheated twice, and a meeting in six minutes. “Of course.” The biggest lie in the English language. She needed help with some paperwork. “Didn’t you do this last month?” “That was…
It’s been five days since Ben took over school. Five days. I haven’t died. Nobody has died. I’m not enjoying it. Monday morning, Nora came downstairs wearing two different socks. One pink. One yellow. “Ben.” “What?” “Her socks.” He looked. “Nice socks, Nora.” “Thanks, Daddy.” I looked at both of them. Apparently, we were raising…
Ben and I had a fight on Tuesday. A real one. Not about socks. Not about dishes. Although, technically, it started with a piece of paper. The sick-day instructions. He found them in the drawer. “You kept this?” “Yes.” “Why?” “In case Nora gets sick again.” “She’s six. She’s going to get sick again.” “Exactly.”…
Nora got sick on Monday. Not a hospital sick. School sick. The kind where she’s too sick to go to school but perfectly healthy enough to ask for snacks every eleven minutes. At 6:40 a.m., she had a fever. At 7:15, she was dying. At 8:03, she wanted pancakes. Children recover quickly when breakfast is…
Halloween is a beautiful holiday. Children dress up, eat candy, and scream. So basically a regular Saturday, but with decorations. Nora wanted to be a vampire princess. Not a vampire. Not a princess. Both. She explained this like I was the unreasonable one. Ben bought the costume. It came with a cape, plastic teeth, and…
On Monday, Gord called me at 7:42 a.m. I was in the bathroom. Not using it. Hiding in it. There’s a difference. “Your system doesn’t work,” he said. “Good morning, Gord.” “The warehouse numbers are wrong.” “Which warehouse?” “The north one.” Of course. The north warehouse is becoming the fourth member of my family. It…
Thanksgiving dinner was at our house. Eight people. Fourteen-pound turkey. Three side dishes. Two mothers with opinions. One woman who apparently hates herself. Me. I had a spreadsheet. Ben had a beer. To be fair, he’d also peeled the potatoes, cleaned the bathrooms, picked up his mother and kept Nora entertained. But I had the…