Amazing Adventure #6: Stifling My Inner Morning Monologue

Apparently, you aren't supposed to say what you actually are thinking to your children (or your pets or your neighbors) until you have run it through a strong filter and had at least 4 cups of coffee.  Because emotional scaring and therapy is why.  (yeah....even pets, apparently)   But those inner monologues - they happen, don't they?  And they're so LOUD.  And mine seem to be the same ones every. single. morning.  See if any of mine sound like yours:

 

What I actually say:  “Oh NO!  Is your dish empty?  I got ya!”

Inner monologue:  "Oh, you’re gonna be demanding now?  That's how you're gonna play this?  We RESCUED you.  You were HOMELESS.  You can’t wait 30 damn minutes for me to get up at 7:15 and feed you?  Really?  We can't allow the alarm to wake me up even ONCE this week?  Cause you’re gonna DIE if you don’t get more cheap-ass Target cat food RIGHT NOW?  Because you're just SOOOO much more important than everyone else here?!  Ingrate!"

 

First cup of coffee

 

What I actually say:   “ I've already asked twice, Bunny.  Please go brush your teeth.”

Inner monologue:  Oh my god.  I SO don’t care if you brush your teeth.  I only asked cause I was trying to seem like one of those responsible moms we see on the playground.  Don’t brush ém.  Who cares?  Most of them aren't even permanent yet.  We worry too much about our teeth in this country.  If they get too bad, you can just move to England and you’ll be fine.  Hell – I’m not gonna brush my teeth either.  Or my hair.  Let’s do this up right.  I love England!  And it’s the holiday season after all!  Let’s take a holiday from personal grooming.  That’s the best thing I've heard this morning.  I'm IN!"

 

Second cup of coffee.

 

What I actually say:  “Oh, look.  There’s a grocery cart blocking our door!”

Inner monologue:   "OH, OK, neighbor.  Yes.  You’re right.  I brought groceries in last night and didn't want to leave my kids alone while I returned the cart to the 1st floor storage space.  You’re right.  I did that.  I see from this early am passive aggression that you’re back from vacation.  GOODY!  While you’re on a roll, do you have anything to say about noise or laundry or non-regulation door mats?  Want to explain again how you medicate your cat for its thyroid condition?  Because I am always captivated by your thoughts on all those matters.  And isn't it lucky that we were just late to school when you blocked the only exit from our condo and not, you know, escaping a raging fire?  I KNOW!  Super LUCKY!  Welcome home.  Sorry that grocery cart just rolled in front of your door."

 

 

What I actually say:  “Ok.  Quickly.  Everybody get in the car!

Inner monologue:  “Get in the car!  The car!  GET IN THE CAR!  GET IN THE FUCKING CAAAAAAR!!!!!  Put down that stick.   It’s a stick.  A STICK.  You've seen one before.  And that’s a puddle. It’s been there for three days.   Don’t you dare put your foot in that.  Don’t put your…GREAT!  I am not going back up to get dry shoes.  I’m not.  Cause and effect, my friend.  Learn it before college or we’re all in trouble.  Get in the damn…I am NOT writing an excuse if you’re late.  It can just go on your permanent record.  Now listen to me!  Your permanent record?  I don't even know what that means!!!  You are clearly making me crazy!  GET IN THE CAR.”

 

Followed in short order by the inevitable:

 

Inner monologue:  "Get out of the car!!  GET OUT OF THE CAR!!!  I have had time to jump out, open your door, grab your backpack, wave to that woman who is looking smug because her kids were on time to school and she managed to put on a full face of make-up…You know what?  She just doesn’t realize we are taking a vacation from personal grooming BY CHOICE...that's what the problem there is.  Wait...are you still just sitting?  GET OUT OF THE CAR!  I just did a full monologue about personal grooming and you are still sitting in the Exact. Same. Spot.  I am not walking you in to the nurse’s office to get a hall pass.  If you’re late it will be because every time I stop the car, you just sit there like a lump.  MOVE!  MovemovemovemovemovemoveMOVE!"

 

Final swig of coffee from large travel mug containing cups three and four.

 

What I actually say:  "Bye, sweet babies.  See you after school.  Have a great day!  I love you."

Inner monologue:  "Bye, sweet babies.  See you after school.  Have a great day!  I love you....whew!"

 

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