There are forty-four unread emails in my inbox. That’s a lot of emails for a stay-at-home mom. Most of them are spam, promotions or newsletters I haven’t read yet. BMO encourages me to take advantage of its MasterCard rewards program. Uber Eats tells me to hurry up before 40% off my next order expires. My son’s school warns me of a head lice infestation.
While vacuuming the other day I noticed a piece of white candy on the floor. I realized afterwards it wasn’t candy. It was my son’s tooth and it was too late.
When I was teenager my friends and I rented the movie Unfaithful with Diane Lane. We would replay the stairway scene over and over. I thought I’d watch it again but I couldn’t find it on the many streaming platforms I’m subscribed to. So I watched Under the Tuscan Sun instead.
I get mad at my body when it can’t do what I want it to do. Haven’t I been kind and understanding of its limits? Just when I think I’ve finally figured it out, it teaches me a new lesson. I guess it wanted me to stay in bed all weekend to watch Sister Act and Sister Act 2.
I eat popcorn almost every day. I’m probably ingesting too many popcorn bag chemicals, but at least I’m getting a good dose of fibre.
Do I have head lice?
Under the Tuscan Sun is a movie about an American writer who impulsively buys a broken-down villa while on a trip to Italy. It’s a nice story but I couldn’t understand why Diane Lane’s character was allowed to stay all this time without a visa. Even her pregnant best friend, played by Sandra Oh, came to stay and had her baby there too. I’m very concerned about the visa situation. Does this mean we can all just decide to live in Italy on a whim?
The calming essential oils roll-on I bought caused a rash on my chest.
I use my microwave as storage.
In the early aughts I watched a lot of E! Network shows. Ice Loves Coco was one I never missed. I’d forgotten about this. I found old episodes of Ice Loves Coco online to remember why I liked it so much. Ah, yes. There’s nothing like watching Ice-T chilling in his leather chair in the middle of his Jersey penthouse while his wife Coco “cleans” the house by spraying Windex on their velvet sofa.
The older I get the more fragile I feel. Sometimes I mistake feeling things deeply as weakness.
Underneath my bed there’s a lot of stuff: a vacuum, boxes and bags filled with toddler clothing, stacks of books, boxes of DVDs and CDs, a blanket, a broken keyboard, a rolled-up carpet that desperately needs cleaning and my breakfast in bed tray. One day there will be nothing underneath my bed, except for my breakfast in bed tray.
There are now fifty-one unread emails in my inbox.
I'm curious... what was his tooth doing on the floor and was it before or after the tooth fairy went to your place?