It was around 5:30 pm on Mother’s Day and the kids were getting restless. By restless, I mean they were getting on our nerves. Somehow, the clouds and rain had decided to take the day off. Sunshine was penetrating every window in the house and it was getting stuffy inside. Mom needed to get some peace and quiet. The kids were even getting bored of all of their electronic devices. All the signs were pointing at what to do, except to me. Some people (me) need to be beaten upon the cranium before they will get a clue. For a thick headed Bitterman like me that still didn’t get it, it was suggested that we go outside…on a walk.
Yes, you heard that right. Not sit on the couch, and watch TV. IT WAS GO OUTSIDE AND GO FOR A WALK. All of sudden my head started pounding, my heart started palpitating and my knees starting protesting. Please…we like it here on the couch…we don’t have the strength…we’ve been working overtime with those 300 steps a day you are demanding…please don’t make us support that overgrown pear shape above us any longer…we just can’t take itttt…. And that was just my knees protesting. Can you imagine how many excuses my brain was coming up with that never made it outside my mouth? Well, it was about as many as the amount of dollars that Donald Sterling is losing everytime he opens his senile mouth.
The kids hopped up almost instantly and agreed to take the walk. Thanks, little Benedict Arnolds. All you had to do was protest just a little and I could have piled on faster than you could say bitter battle butter batters. Since there was no protest, I grabbed my least comfortable walking sandals, and my sons tiniest sunglasses, since there was no way I was going to take the 5 extra steps and the .5 ounces extra weight from my keys, to get into my car and get my sunglasses. I took a few painful steps past our driveway, which were a foreign territory to both me and my feet. I took the first step onto the foreign land, and felt the fear that Indiana Jones felt as he took the literal leap on faith in the end temple in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.
I immediately proclaimed to my mini Brutus’s that it was too hot and I was too tired and we should go home. I suggested that maybe we go for a drive and sit in that nice comfortable air conditioning, but they wouldn’t have it. As we started walking, strange sounds started invading my ears. There was no music with heavy beats and whiny, entitled millenials screaming that their Wi-Fi wasn’t working. There was no beeps and boops of and electronic game from one of my kids Nintendo 3DS’s. There wasn’t even background noise or the dull glow of people fighting in a well written reality show. Nothing but chirps (I was told they came from birds), a slight whoosh from the air moving around us (my kids called this the wind?) and all the litter from the trees (a nosy neighbor called them leaves). Other than that there was just silence.
After finally kind of getting used to all the intrusive noise from “nature”, we arrived at the school where the kids claimed they learned stuff. I always thought they learned their lack of math skills, reading skills and social abilities from me, but they told me that whenever I leave to go to work, they sneak off and go learn from someone else. I was aghast at this knowledge of my little Cypher’s learning behind my back. They told me that they actually even took breaks from learning and exercised on a regular basis between learning and lunch. They called it recess and it was a place that they jumped, and played and ran around “for fun”. They even actually looked forward to it. After exercising for another 15 minutes on the strange ladders, slides and bars that they swung across, the betrayal was complete.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I complained that my feet hurt, my eyes were getting tired from viewing the bright yellow globe and I needed to get home. I thought about calling home for a ride, but looked down and realized that my pocket was missing my smarter brain (my smarter than me phone) so I couldn’t call. I complained all the way home, but they kids made me continue. When I got home, I collapsed on to my comfort zone (couch, feet up) and could finally breathe.
I was asked how it was. “I couldn’t breathe out there. There was so much fresh air.”
I sure hope the kids never get any more bad ideas like this again. If they do, they can go by themselves.
Bitter Fresh Air Ben