Yesterday, when I picked you up from preschool, I mentioned
that I’d gotten the car washed, and you burst into tears. I didn’t know that toddlers could have FOMO
(Fear of Missing Out), but from now on I will try to be more sensitive.
I don’t want you worrying that I have some sort of secret
life, so let me lay it out for you. Here’s what I really do while you’re in
First of all, I drive like a MANIAC. I don’t ride gently over speed bumps and I
especially don’t say out loud, “Here comes a bump!” If someone cuts me off, I curse like a
sailor, and I’m not talking about “rats” or “dangit.” I’m talking top shelf, A-1, make-a-rapper-proud cursing. I also might passive-aggressively
slow down when someone is tailgating me, or tailgate someone driving too slow, depending
on my mood. I would never play these
games with you as my precious cargo, but when you’re at preschool all bets are
And I do all this while singing loudly to the Beastie Boys
without anyone imploring, “Stop singing!”
Needless to say, I use the bathroom by myself.
Sometimes I’ll stop by our house just to watch violent
television shows with strong sexual content while eating a cookie that I’m not
going to share.
While I’m there, I'll take an extra long shower (hello, my old
friend deep conditioner) and shave my legs while actually looking at my
legs. Look ma, no Band-Aids! Needless to say, I use the bathroom by
myself, double-locking the door for the pure joy of it despite the fact that no
one is home.
Then I’ll go to two
different grocery stories to buy ingredients for making dinner. (Whole
Foods for the organic produce I buy out of guilt and a regular store for the
normal stuff, like bread.) Shopping in
this leisurely fashion, a little here, a little there, without stopping to
buckle a slippery fish into a car seat or grocery cart or sheepishly pay for a
half-eaten banana and empty juice box, I feel like I’m on a luxury trip to