Image from The Suburban Crab archives
Once during my late teens, my mother caught me calling a friend at 10:30 at night. She wasn’t pleased, especially when she found out that I’d accidentally woken up my friend’s parents when I rang his house. “It’s rude to call so late!” she scolded. She subsequently instituted a household rule that we were never to call people after 10 p.m.
My mother, if you couldn’t guess, is serious about her household rules. If she says no calling after 10, then you sure as heck ain’t calling if it’s after 10.
A couple of weeks ago, Ted and I had just settled in for the night—lights out downstairs, kids sent to bed, a few last minutes of reading before getting some shut-eye—when my cell phone buzzed urgently from my nightstand.
Image courtesy of The Suburban Crab archives
Someone once told me that you never feel as old as when your kids celebrate another birthday.
Well, Boof just turned 15 on Friday. Imagine how I’m feeling now.
That sense of speeding toward your death doesn’t hit you those first couple of kid birthdays. You just feel joy and wonder: I can’t believe he’s turning 1! Or: She’s 2 today! She’s such a big girl!
Image courtesy of Joi Ito via Fotopedia
I mentioned to Ted my feeling that I’ve gotten worse with age, that I’ve become this terribly selfish, self-centered, cold, crabby person who spends most of her time being a hater.
“You’ve never been the warmest fish.”
Image courtesy of Cheeni via Wikimedia Commons
Have you ever noticed how, when you’re driving and you let go of the steering wheel for a second, your car will start to drift slightly? Apparently your car’s not really supposed to do this, but I’ve found that even one that’s been going straight can have a natural inclination to the left or right if you let go of the wheel.
More and more, I feel like that’s how I am: Like if I don’t keep a tight grip on the metaphorical steering wheel of my behavior, my personality will naturally trend toward who I really am. Which wouldn’t be an issue if drifting toward the real me were the equivalent of edging slightly into the next lane. But lately, it seems the real me is instead more of a sharp veering off the road, through two lanes of traffic and into a storefront window advertising 5-cent copies and 24-hour laminating services.