Today is what I call "A Mother’s Day Off." At 6:15 this morning, my alarm buzzed loudly. Next to me, lay my husband in a weakened state because he’d been BFFs with the toilet for the past 12 hours. After watching him plug his nose and drink 455 ounces of "yucky stuff" (as he called it), then I spent the rest of the afternoon watching him make a mad dash for the bathroom while yelling, "IF YOU’RE IN MY WAY, I’LL MOW YOU DOWN!"
My children came in the bedroom, rubbing their tired eyes. "Ready for school?" I asked.
Before they could answer, my husband said, "Daddy’s going to have a fire hose shoved up his bottom today!"
"Honey!" I exclaimed. "Please! Do we need to use such graphic details in front of the children?"
I pulled the children aside who were now clutching their bottoms while screaming, "I’M NEVER HAVING A FIRE HOSE UP MY BOTTOM!"
"Daddy is going to have a procedure this morning," I said reassuringly.
"Are there going to be firefighters there?" my daughter asked.
I glared at my husband who was now staring at his abdomen while saying, "Look at how flat my stomach is today!"
"Definitely six-pack abs," I muttered.
By 8:00 a.m., I was at the hospital checking my husband in for his first colonoscopy. I whispered to him, "When you’re under anesthesia, please don’t tell any of our family secrets."
He said, "Do we have any secrets?"
I replied, "I’m not sure, but we might have a few after today."
As I sat in the hospital cafeteria and waited for my husband to "have a fire hose shoved up his bottom," I checked my watch. In just six hours, I’d be taking my daughter to the dentist to have three teeth pulled. I thought to myself, "Who gets to have all the fun in life? Me, that’s who!’
As busy wives and mothers, these moments are what we use our hard-earned vacation days for every year. A childless friend at work said to me the other day, "Why don’t you just take a day off for yourself? Maybe go to a spa or something!" After I finished laughing hysterically, I realized she was serious.
"Oh dear," I said, "I need to set you straight. Mothers don’t have days off like that until their children leave home, or if we do make appointments for ourselves, those one-hour sessions are called THERAPY."
When you’re a wife and mother, vacation days away from work are often spent in the car on the way to the dentist or doctor or worriedly sitting at the bedside of a sick child. And when your child or husband turns to look at you, grabs your hand and says, "Thanks for being there for me," I think there’s no better way to spend your day off.
I did get a few strange looks from the nurses today when I pulled out my lawn chair and sunglasses in the hospital lobby and slipped out of my swimsuit cover up. Just trust me on this one … those little umbrella drinks I’ve been sipping all day really make it seem like vacation.