I Want My Epidural Back (9 page)

Dear Parents at __________ School who don't think it's fair for the school to ban nut products,

So I just heard the story about your school and even though my kids don't go there, I still couldn't help but have an opinion. Now if you don't want to hear what I think, feel free to stop reading now. Seriously, stop reading 'cause you might not agree with what I say.

Okay, you're still with me. Here we go.

So lemme get this straight. There's this kid who's deathly allergic to nuts. Like it's so bad that if this kid sat down at a table where someone was eating nuts, he would die. As in dead. Gone. Forever. And the only way this kid can go to school is if the school bans EVERYONE from bringing nut products into the school.

And lemme make sure I understand where you're coming from. So you think it's YOUR kid's right to bring her favorite snack to school. You think if someone tells her she can't bring a PB&J to lunch that her freedom is being squashed.

Am I understanding all of this so far? I just want to make sure I have this straight.

Okay.

So are you ready for my opinion? Do you want to hear what I think? Stop being such a goddamn shartrag and grow the F up. I mean seriously? SERIOUSLY?!!! You think your kid's right to eat a stupid brownie with chopped nuts in it is more important than a kid's life? Your kid can still eat her crappy PB&J. She's just gonna have to wait a few extra hours until she gets home from school.

I'm sorry if it's inconvenient for you to have to think a little harder about what you pack in little Timmy's lunchbox. Think how F'ing hard it is for Allergy Boy's mom every damn day trying to figure out where he can and can't go, and what he can and can't eat. How awful it must be for her to send her kid off every day knowing she might not see him again if he accidentally touches the wrong table.

“But but but can't this kid get homeschooled?” you ask. Ummm, first of all, are you offering to homeschool him, because who the hell said his mom can do that? Duh, maybe she works like most parents do.

“Well, why should my love muffin have to stop bringing banana nut muffins to school because some other kid has allergies?”

I'll tell you why. It's called compassion. It's called putting
yourself in another mother's shoes. It's called teaching your kid that maybe, just maybe, her desire to take peanut M&M's to school isn't quite as important as a boy's life.

Anyways, that's just my measly two cents. Take it or leave it. I'm off to the kitchen where I'm going to eat a scoop of peanut butter, because it's not gonna hurt anyone, because I'm at home.

                                       
Sincerely,

                                       
A mom who gives a crap about ALL kids, not just my own

HUBBY:
I'm getting a milk shake.

ME:
But the kids didn't eat enough to get one.

HUBBY:
So? I did.

ME:
Yeah, but if YOU get one, they're totally gonna want one too.

HUBBY:
I'll just tell them no.

ME:
Then they're gonna be whiny a-holes the whole way home and we're gonna have to listen to that shit.

HUBBY:
Fine, I won't let them see it.

ME:
Yeah, right. Like that'll work.

I stand corrected. Thank God for winter hats!

ME:
Guys, don't forget to eat your green beans. You haven't taken a single bite.

ZOEY:
Mommy, will you tell us how green beans are made?

ME:
Well, they're not really made. They grow.

ZOEY:
Nooooo, tell us the pretend way.

ME:
Ohhh, the pretend way.

Ugggh, seriously? I am SOOOOO sick of telling these stupid pretend food stories. So once we went to this restaurant and the food was taking a long time to come out, and my kids were all, “Wahhhh, where's our fooood?” and I answered, “Well, it takes the chef a long time to go out and kill the pizzas,” and then they were like, “Nuh-uhhh,” and I was like, “Yuh-huhhh. The pizzas are born on a pizza farm and then they have to grow bigger and then when someone orders a pepperoni pizza, the chef has to go out to the field and find the right one and lasso it but the pizzas keep rolling away so it takes a while.”

Anyways, my kids aren't idiots (except when they play a stupid game like “let's push each other on the stairs and see who gets hurt”), so they knew I was kidding but they lovvvvved my story. And now every time we're eating (THREE F'ing times a day), they're all, “Tell us how they make the pizzas,” or “Tell us where they get the apples,” or “Tell us where the macaroni and cheese comes from,” and I have to use my brain a lot and come up with these silly stories.

At first, telling these stories was fun and funny and I enjoyed doing it, but now I'm like, aggghhhh, can't you just act like normal crotchmuffins and play with the salt and pepper shakers and leave me the hell alone? All I want to do is just eat my food in peace. Is that too much to ask?!! But fine, whatever, if it'll make you happy.

ZOEY:
Pleeeease tell us the story about the green beans.

ME:
Okay, fine, the story about the green beans.

I repeat her words because I'm stalling and trying to come up with a creative story I haven't told before.

ME:
So the green beans grow in big fields on the bottom of the ocean.

ZOEY:
So they're like seaweed?

ME:
Kind of. But they're green beans. And they grow in these big patches until this ginormous purple octopus with eight arms comes along and he uses all his arms to give the green beans a huge hug and he picks them all at once and swims up
to the surface to deliver the green beans to the fishermen and while he's swimming up with them, the green beans sing this song.

We are the green beans, the green beans of the sea,

We grow from the ocean floor, come and eat me . . .

And yes, I know it's like the stupidest song ever, but I'm making it up on the spot. Plus, while I'm singing it I'm actually thinking about which bottle of wine I'm going to open up tonight once the kiddos go to bed. Two more hours, two more hours, two more hours.

Anyways, the song goes on for a few more lines, and as soon as I'm done singing it, Zoey has a question.

ZOEY:
Wait, are the green beans sad?

ME:
Sad? No, why?

ZOEY:
Because they're gonna get eaten.

Awww shit, she totally took my story and spun it and now she's gonna refuse to eat her green beans because now they have feelings. Shit shit shit shit shit. You better fix this now.

ME:
Oh nooooo. Not at all. The green beans
want
to get eaten.

ZOEY:
They do?

ME:
Yup, that's how they fulfill their life dream.

ZOEY:
Really?

She looks doubtful.

ME:
Really. That is
literally
why they are born. That is their life purpose. To get eaten. The only sad green beans are the ones that are still left on the plate.

Zoey looks down at the four sad green beans lying on her plate looking up at her. I mean no, they don't really have eyes, but you know, I'm personifying or whatever the F that's called.

And the next thing I know, she's gobbling up every green bean on her plate. By the last one, she's making a face like she can hardly take it anymore, but she finishes and looks satisfied.

And all the green beans lived happily ever after. Chewed up and slowly turning into poop. Except for Holden's. He took a bite of one (poor amputee green bean), but the other two were dumped into the trash can where they were sad forever and ever. Not really. Really they high-fived each other and had a big party because they avoided getting eaten, but don't tell my kids that.

The End.

HOLDEN:
Mommy, do you want some penis?

I was about to say, “Ummm, no thank you,” until I turned around and saw him holding the jar of peanuts from the pantry. Phew.

ME:
Yes, please.

ME:
Do you want oatmeal, cereal, eggs, or a bagel?

HOLDEN:
I don't know. Give me choices.

•

ZOEY:
How many bites do I have to eat to get dessert?

ME:
2,927,103. I'm assuming they're each gonna be the size of an atom.

•

ZOEY:
Aggghhh, get it off, GET IT OFF!!!!!!! Hurry!!!!!! GET IT OFFFFF!!!

ME:
Umm, excuse me, waitress, but can you remove the pickle from her plate?

•

ME:
Muhahahahaha, I put spinach in your smoothie and you have no idea!!! But alas, I cannot brag about it or you'll never fall for it again. Sigh.

HOLDEN:
Nooooo, you peeled it too much!!!

ME:
No, I didn't, buddy. Look.

And I take out the tape measure and show him that the banana is 8 inches long and I peeled it to exactly 4 inches, precisely halfway, just the way he likes it.

•

ZOEY:
It's not fair!!! Holden got more bread than me!!!!

ME:
Yeah, but you got a hole in your bread and he didn't.

HOLDEN:
Wahhh, I want a hole in my bread!! It's not fair!!!

•

ZOEY:
Mommm, this milk tastes like cow udders.

ME:
Ewwww, I can't even begin to imagine what cow udders taste like. Wait, yes, I can, and Zoey Lila Alpert, you are NOT allowed to think about that until you are much, much older.

A bun if there are poppy seeds on it

Pasta if there is green shit on top

Hot dogs if there are lines on it from the grill

A bagel if it's toasted

A bagel if it's too cold

Any apple except for a Honeycrisp apple

Any apple if I accidentally leave a tiny piece of the peel on it

The stupid little carrots and celery in a can of chicken noodle soup

Any constructed food item—cheese and crackers, tacos, s'mores, they all have to be deconstructed

Fruit if it's green

The entire banana if there's a brown spot on it anywhere

The outside of the ravioli (so, yes, I peel that shit off)

Anything on their plate if there's one thing on their plate they don't like

A pea if it's wrinkly

A carrot if it's been cut in half

Food they like that's touching any food they don't like, like even though Zoey loves cantaloupe, she won't eat it if it's in a fruit salad touching honeydew

Guacamole if you can tell it was made with avocado

Marinara sauce if there are tomatoes in it (hmmm)

Chicken nuggets that aren't shaped like Mickey Mouse

Grilled cheese made with fancy cheese

Mac and cheese made with fancy cheese

Mac and cheese if there are bread crumbs on top (which means I have to eat the bread crumbs off, yayyy!)

A smoothie if they can detect any ingredient in it

Hot dogs without ketchup

French fries without ketchup

Chicken nuggets without ketchup

Their entire bowl of cereal if there's one of those little burnt pieces in there

Bread with crust on it

Seedless watermelon if there are any seeds in it

Applesauce that's in a bowl even though they'll happily suck it out of a pouch

Tater tots (which officially makes them insane)

Bacon if it's not crispy enough

Bacon if it's too burnt

Square pizza slices without a handle (crust)

Anything once they've tasted it and it's too hot

And like a shitload of other things, but I can't keep writing it all right now because I have to go make dinner. And by make dinner, I mean call Domino's. And God help us if we order half cheese, half pepperoni and one of the cheese pieces has a sliver of pepperoni on it and it ends up on one of my kids' plates. Holy crap, shit fest.

ZOEY:
Wow, Mommy, that building is soooo beautiful. What is it?

ME:
Taco Bell.

And when I've had way too much to drink, I feel exactly the same way, kiddo.