The kids are taking turns doing the laundry and carrying the clean, dry clothes to me because I am capable of folding. The kids are cooking. The husband is doing the shopping.
The first two days would have been bliss if I hadn't been so painkillered up that I thought I was in a Disney musical. It was a lovely musical where animals spoke and real hearts were in the shape of hearts.
I have to admit that I have done some off limit activities while nobody was looking. I usually end up falling. Yet I persist. I try to be good, but I can't. The dishwasher taunts me. It sits there loaded with clean dishes, and I am unable to resist. I must unload. I am a robot at this point and have no choice.
Just as I was using one crutch to stabilize myself on tiptoes so that I might kick the bad leg out behind me in effort to reach the top shelf, I was discovered.
"Mom!" Emery shouted as she grabbed my arm and drug me to the couch. "You are NOT supposed to be doing that!"
"Do you know you have amazing strength for such a tiny girl?" I asked.
"I'm sorry," she responded, "but I am going to have to take away your privileges." She grabbed my crutches and walked away, leaving me stranded on the couch. Helpless.
Privileges revoked.
No comments:
Post a Comment