Thursday, February 11, 2010

Susan Day

Today was Susan Day.  It should be on every calendar.  At least, it's on mine. 

Lately, Susan got a little lost.  She nursed her husband back to health after a "life-threatening" bout with the stomach flu.  "Life threatening" if you ask him.  As if no one has ever vomited before.  As if I didn't vomit for 9 months while pregnant with Joshua.  None-the-less, I nursed him back to health.

Susan got lost while staying awake for 3 days, while Jack was in the hospital.  I do think I dozed off twice at night, but I was quickly awakened by monitors beeping and alarms sounding.

Susan got lost teaching her 29 students; one of which has been cutting himself and requires 100% supervision.  She also has lugged over $400 in pennies to get counted.  $400 y'all!  In pennies! 

So, I called in "Susan" to work today.  Let me explain how to properly celebrate Susan Day.

You wake up and leisurely get ready.  There's no rush.  It's not like you are going to work or anything. 

You call the babysitter to come and watch the kids for the day.

You get a Starbucks, whip cream included.

You sip your Starbucks while getting a pedicure.  The nicest part of this is that you don't have to share your Starbucks with anyone.

You go clothes shopping.  By yourself.  You don't have to look through the circular racks to find your children.  You don't have to worry about your children looking under the doors in the dressing room.  You don't have to worry about your kids saying something embarassing while you are trying on outfits.  You don't have to worry about your 2 year old son putting on the high-heel shoes that are on display and parading around the store.

You go to lunch with your husband.  And you talk to your husband.  You don't have to worry about bringing crayons.  You don't have to worry about booster seats.  You don't have to worry about a diaper bag.  And you don't have to cut anyone's food for them.

Then, you go to Wal-Mart.  Again, by yourself.  You browse every aisle, because... well... because you can.  You don't have to push a 65 pound shopping cart (that's the weight before you even put any food in it). 

Finally, you go home and get big hugs and kisses from your kids and remember exactly why you get up every night to cover them up, spend your last dollar for a Hot Wheel car, and pray endlessly about their futures.  I love being Susan.

where Glory meets my suffering