Ducky Diaries: The man under the stairs

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

The man under the stairs

Dear customer service workers (or anyone in direct contact with people),

Moms don't really hate you. I promise. I mean, we sort of do, sometimes. Like when our kids are sick and we're schlepping them all over town for appointments and prescriptions, but we really don'

We just hate your face. At that moment. And your questions. And your slow walk. And anything you're doing that delays us from a speedy return home, where our crazy is allowed and pants are optional.

You see, when you have only one child and they are sick longer than a week you start to go a little nutty. Your sleep deprivation is hitting a peek that newborn night wakings can't touch. There's no bottle or boob that really truly soothes a sick child for long. 

However the benefit of having only one child is that it allows you to consider how you look and act in public because you still care about how you're perceived. So you're able to pull that polite smile from the depth of your being.....

But, throw in another kid, maybe pop a few more out. This is when shit literally hits the fan. The train automatically derails the moment the second spawn walks out of you.
You may think to yourself (in moments of innocent ignorance);

"This ain't my first Ro-Day-O!", am I right?!


Multiple kids sick at the same time is a hell you will not come back from. Throw in 3-4 weeks of this type of hell and BOOM!, you're gone. Your brain has left the building. Sleep, it ain't happening. When one beast finally falls, the other is awake, crying, coughing, sneezing, snotting, demanding allllll the things including your love, which flew out the window 3 vomits ago. It's a rotation of human torture....

And then there are moments when you panic because you can't find your kids. Yes, the very one's yanking at your pant leg for some thing. 

Or the moment when you're coming up the basement stairs (because laundry still needs done) and you damn near fall back down them because your water heater suddenly turned into a man standing under said stairs...... 

*Note to self*
At these times it should be a legal obligation for someone to come to your house, wrap you in a snuggie, and toss you in bed. While they take care of your kids for 12 hours, of course.

But throw in yourself as one of the sicks, and you're screwed....


THEN YOU GOTTA GO OUT IN PUBLIC! And subject innocent bystanders to this shit that is your life!!!!????

God, why you so cruel???!!

Dear customer service peoples, I don't hate you. I just haven't slept in 3 weeks. And you as the receptionist on the phone making me wait to check out at the Dr.s office where I've just spent 3 hours shoved into a room the size of a cubicle,with 2 germ spewing rug rats are NOT my friend.
While my sick minions eat tissues and throw tantrums, I'm kind of thinking about how your head would look mounted on my wall. 

And you..... Drive thru pharmacist..... It's a DRIVE-THRU!!! I'm supposed to just DRIVE THRUUUUUUUUUU. Like a drive by where nobody dies and I throw out ice cream, but you might die... Or get screamed at because I turned my car off after 15 minutes and have had to endure snot filled screams of agony for over 20 minutes. 

You are the worst today. You're holding the drugs my kids need. I NEED. I need them so that they may feel better soon and may, in turn sleep, which may in turn help me not want to chew your face off. 

So, in conclusion, 

Dear customer service people mom's don't hate you. They just are not in their right minds when caring for ill offspring. Please forgive us all. 

The mom who almost went full Zombie on your ass.

No comments: