Poor little guy….
It was actually uneventful really. No fanfare, no pomp and circumstance, no bright lights or flashes of color. It kind of just slowly dimmed until at last, it blinked out, like an old incandescent light bulb. I expected it to happen really. They say when you become a parent, your brain cells slowly start to die. And if you are a stay at home mom…well, forget about it. Those suckers practically fall out as quick as my peri menopausal hair. Long days of singing “itsy bitsy spider” four hundred times, speaking in monosyllabic sentences, fielding incessant questions beginning with “why?” along with chicken nuggets and fries as my only nutrition…it was bound to happen. Inevitable even. In fact, I am surprised my brain lasted me this long.
My Brain as a Parent
Oh, I tried to fight it. I did crossword puzzles, played Luminosity every morning, and used big words like fastidious and paradoxical and h’orderves . But it was no use. Years of getting my news in 15 minutes snippits and learning just enough about a subject to get by had taken it’s toll. The thing was on it’s last leg.
The day started as any ordinary day. After conducting our normal 4 hour morning routine, it was now 8:30am and we were ready to hit the stores for some errands. My ladies at Dunkins had my order ready to go when I walked in. The future look bright as we headed to our first stop….the pharmacy.
Had to get the kids ADHD medication filled. It was then that I realized something….nowhere in our morning routine today did I actually give my kids their medicine. This became apparent as I stood at the counter while my daughter launched herself up and down like a kangaroo on crack while rapidly firing questions at the clerk. All the while, the boy was behind me, practicing his ninja moves on the reading glasses display. I was impressed by the durability of the display as well as his moves. I quickly debated on going home to get the meds, but decided to forge on.
As we were leaving my daughter informs me her “thighs” hurt then she points to her calf muscle.
Me: Those are called calves.
Her: Like a baby cow?
Her: Well then my cows are hurting.
This was followed by hysterical laughter…. and then the mooing began. The boy, of course, happily joined in, having no clue why he was mooing. They continued the Laurel and Hardy routine – “my cows are hurting” “MOOOO!!!” – as we drove to our next stop. I threatened to drop them off at the closest slaughterhouse.
Now that the mooing was squashed, we hit Walmart. There is usually never any good that comes out of a trip to Walmart. Today was no exception. I had a return to do and need 3 things. My daughter announced that she can no longer walk because her “cows” hurt too much. More mooing. I ended up putting them both in one of those mack truck carriage that weigh 400 lbs and has no steering ability. We headed to Customer Service to stand in line, because at Walmart, there is always only one person working the register. I realized I left my receipt in the car. Briefly debated on leaving the kids at the service counter, but thought better of it. I might not come back. So I pushed the big ass cart back to my car, found the receipt and pushed the cart back to customer service. Return done, we grabbed the 3 things I needed and 97 things I didn’t and got the hell out of there.
I needed to make an exchange at the next store, but realized I forgot the exchange item. Being one exit from home, I decided to shoot back, take a pee break, grab the bag and head out again. Screeched into the driveway, grabbed the bag, ran in to pee and got back in the car. As I opened the door, the dog jumped into the back seat. The kids started screaming, the dog ran all the way to the back of the van and wouldn’t come out. F$@%k it. You’re coming with us now, a-hole.
Halfway to the store it hit me. I left the f(*&*ing bag at the house! AGAIN!
And that is when it happened….that poor little brain cell, hanging by it’s nails to my gray matter, finally gave out and let go, falling slowly, silently screaming as it died in my head. Poof! It was over in a matter of seconds.
Strangely, I don’t feel any different now then when I had a brain. Maybe I never really need it in the first place. I always considered myself as a somewhat intelligent person, but maybe I never was.
I am not sure what life holds for me going forward without a brain. I am hoping I just roll along through life, blissfully ignorant to the world around me. If that is the case then you might just see me riding around in my van, filled with the delightful sounds of mooing….and it may be me whose leading the chorus.
Peace and Moos