My family is special.
No, not special in an our-kids-listen-to-Creedence-Clearwater-Revival-instead-of-Raffi kind of way, though that is true.
Nope. We are even more special than that. Because we are…
Now, don’t get too excited. While it’s true that we each have super powers, we’re no Superfriends or Justice League. More like the Just-Us League or, if I’m being honest, the Jackass League. Don’t call us when that Ahmadinejad guy in Iran finally goes batshit or when the Mayan calendar ends and all hell breaks loose. You all are on your own then. No, our super powers, while definitely super, are a bit more, um, subtle than climbing walls or leaping tall buildings in a single bound.
First off, there’s me: Molly, aka Mommy, aka The Vaginator. Remember that idiotic politician who made news a few months ago by saying that a woman’s reproductive system can “shut down” at will? That guy is a dumbass nutball, but MAN he made me nervous, because he almost exposed my secret super power. See, when I’m faced with an unpleasant situation—an epic poopy diaper, for example, or a horribly boring Back to School Night presentation—my supervagina takes over and “shuts that whole thing down.” Not just my reproductive organs—ALL of me. One minute I’m filled with rage, annoyance, an urge to vomit, whatever…then, SHUT ‘ER DOWN!—and The Vaginator takes over with her vacant eyes, plastic smile, and pleasant demeanor. Regular Mommy checks out while The Vaginator maintains the social norms and rules of decorum that I sometimes find so challenging.
Here’s an example:
Last week, I took my boys to the Y for 4-year-old Matthew’s swimming lesson. Two-year-old William and I sat in the lobby with a gossip magazine (for me) and my ipod (for him). Within minutes, I was accosted by one of THOSE moms. She came at me with a chirpy, “Your little guy is just SO cute with his little i-thingy! My little Maximus isn’t interested in electronics at all! He positively INSISTS that I read to him constantly! I WISH I could get a break like you, but parenting such an intelligent child really IS a full-time job!”
At this point, Regular Mommy was starting to lose her cool. I was getting sweaty, my heart was racing, I was about to say something we’ll all regret…
AND THE VAGINATOR SHUT ‘ER DOWN!
The Vaginator took over and smiled politely, murmured “How nice for you,” and stuck her nose back in the gossip mag. My nemesis drifted away to find another victim, and Regular Mommy slowly regained control of my body. Another momfight successfully avoided.
|WhereDaddy doesn't like having his picture taken|
Later that same day, the whole Super Family headed out to the car to go to the park. But we soon realized we had a problem. A disgusting, smelly, and, well, stiff problem. In the middle of the driveway, between our car and the street, was a dead squirrel that I swear was the size of a horse. I turned to my husband, but…he was gone. “Where Daddy?” asked William. We checked the house, the garage, the backyard—no Daddy. He was nowhere to be found. He had completely disappeared. “Where Daddy?” William asked again.
Once The Vaginator had taken care of the squirrel (NO WAY was Regular Mommy doing that), WhereDaddy reappeared and we made our way to the park. As we watched the boys climb, slide, and scream at the other kids, another mom approached me—the president of Matthew’s preschool’s PTA.
“Molly! I was just going to call you!” she said brightly. “Cedric’s Boy Scout troop is selling popcorn, and we’re hoping you’ll buy some! Of course, if popcorn’s not your thing, I could just put you down as the organizer of the school’s Halloween Party Raffle? LOTS of work but LOTS of reward, I always say! So, which is it?”
What I WANTED to say was, “Are you freakin’ crazy? I’d rather spend the next two weeks listening to ukulele jazz every day than planning your raffle or eating your popcorn.” But saying that would make future school pick-ups and drop-offs really awkward. Fortunately, Matthew had joined us so I just turned to him, nodded once, and his super alter ego—The Inquisitor—took over.
|Do you know the human head weighs 8 pounds?|
And, just like that, The Inquisitor froze the PTA lady in place with his questions. She couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t even blink. WhereDaddy and I grabbed the boys and ran for the car before his powers could wear off.
By the time we got home, I was exhausted and frazzled. I sat down at my computer to
check facebook search for recipes while WhereDaddy
played with the kids. But when Matthew pulled out Chutes and Ladders,
WhereDaddy disappeared. The boys started eyeing me, because nothing screams
“BOTHER ME!” like a mommy at her computer. William approached me, and I tried
not to make eye contact. I tried to remember the reason his super alter ego is called
“Ole Blue Eyes.” But he got me again, as he always does. Fixing me with his
stare, he whispered plaintively, “Play with me?” I tried to say no, but those
eyes….The next thing I knew, I found myself on the floor playing a rousing game
of Chutes of Ladders. I don’t even know how I got there.
(OK, that’s not all true. The Vaginator played Chutes and Ladders. I can’t stand that game.)
So, there it is. Our secret is finally out. Like I said, we’re not going to be toppling dictatorships or stopping global warming. But, in our own little way, we are making life better for ourselves and the people around us. And that, my friends, is super.-->