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At least my footwear is fancy.

Dear COVID-19,

We’ve been living with you for about a year. You’re a terrible roommate. You’ve affected the health of 115 million people, killing 2.56 million of us.

You’ve negatively affected almost everyone’s mental health. (I’d like to meet someone who has not been affected.)

I know you’ve affected mine. I’m an extrovert who likes to travel, so …

Here is the truth:

I am not an indoor cat.

I never wanted to be a housewife.

I did not choose to be a stay-at-home mom.

I think it is important to be honest about the situation you’ve put us in. We all tend to put a brave face on things, but let’s not.

Let’s pull back the curtain to see the man behind it.

Things I’ve normalized that I do not want to have normalized:

  • Doing laundry on my lunch break.
  • Wearing glasses almost always because of all the screen time I’ve had this year.
  • Putting on eye makeup if going out, but not lipstick.
  • Putting on lipstick if staying in, but not eye makeup. (No one can tell behind the glasses from Point 2.)
  • Wearing pants without zippers.
  • Accepting slippers as my primary footwear.
  • Understanding that I will have a harder time finding energy on cloudy days.
  • Recognizing that a change of scenery means answering emails from the kitchen instead of the living room.
  • Lamenting the lack of privacy. (High school from home for the boys = I’m never alone!)
  • Having to look at my phone to figure out what day it is.
  • Sitting all day.
  • Not seeing people in human form.

These are small issues compared to loss of life noted above, but they are still issues.

The bottom line: It’s not fun to have you around.

It’s time for you to leave.

As they say in the South, “Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya.”

Sincerely,
Beth (and everyone else in the world)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Dear Dr. K,

Thank you for slicing open my son’s mouth and removing his wisdom teeth.

[Insert joke about a teenaged boy not having wisdom.]

I wish he could be smart enough to be a good patient. Sadly, he takes after his father there, not his rule-following, advice-following mother.

Put an ice pack on each side for 20 minutes the first day to reduce swelling?

No.

Take antibiotics three times a day?

Nope.

Brush teeth at least two times a day as usual?

Are you kidding? (Teenaged boys are gross.)

This is not the first time his teeth have caused me distress.

Luckily, I had the traditional loopy-after-surgery video to amuse me.

Note that he ASKED me to take this video so he could share it around.

Anyway, I’m sure he will be fine.

If not, we’ll be seeing you again very soon.

Best wishes,
Dominic’s mom/insurance holder/guarantor

 

 

 

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(Continued from Feb. 1 post)

So. The towing museum — er — International Towing and Recovery Hall of Fame and Museum. Let me resolve the cliffhanger.

I don’t know about you, but I never think about tow trucks until I need them, and I can count the number of times I have needed one on one hand.

But there are many, many people who do think about tow trucks on the reg. Enough that there is a thriving towing museum with promotion on the highway.

And when I say “thriving,” I’m not kidding.

When I checked in on Swarm, the tip that popped up made my eyes widen. I had to read it to Dominic.

High praise, indeed.

Also, Hall of Fame?!

Oh, wow.

We went in, alive with anticipation.

This is Dominic excited.

We paid the entrance fee** ($10, budget accordingly). The cashier said he had just started the movie (!). As it only lasts seven minutes, he told us to hang out in the gift shop, and he’d holler when he was about to start it again.

What a gift shop it was.

Only about half was tow-related merch.

A LIBRARY?!?

The rest featured Tennessee-made products. I bought hot sauce. (Sadly, it didn’t come in pocket size.)

And yes, I also bought a T-shirt. Because of course I did.

Dominic messed around with “Tater Tot.”

Then it was show time.

Did you know that the tow truck was born in Chattanooga? Neither did I.

In 1916, a mechanic named Ernest Holmes had the idea after he helped a friend get his car out of a creek bed. It took eight hours. Holmes modified a 1913 Cadillac with an elaborate crane and pulley system, then filed for a patent on the contraption in 1917.

Did you know that the fatality rate in the towing industry is more than 15 times the rate of deaths for other private industries combined? Neither did I.

But the towing museum has a Wall of the Fallen to help people remember.

Did you know that there’s a World’s Fastest Wrecker? Neither did I.

The Chevy tow truck set its speed record of 109.33 (average speed) at Talladega Motor Speedway in 1979. The truck’s tires actually started to melt during stock-car-driver Eddie Martin’s trial run.

After the movie was over, another museum guest said, “That was the BEST!”

Dominic and I looked at each other with surprised eyes above our masks.

The vintage trucks were actually very cool.

There was a whole wall of towing-themed toys.

We moved on to the Hall of Fame.

HALL OF FAME, y’all!

Apparently, these are people who “have made substantial contributions to the towing and recovery industry.”

Santa?!?

Olin looks as perplexed as we did.

After the Hall of Fame finale (coup de grâce?), we were fed back into the gift shop.

Me: Well. That was exciting.
Dominic: Never a dull moment.

No. Never dull indeed.

Happy recovery, and remember to slow down and move over!
Beth

*Apologies to Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam.

**Tickets are available in advance if you are worried about there being a rush. I did not buy tickets in advance because I thought it would be hilarious if it sold out for the day we went. This is how my mind works.

 

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Dear Parents of Teenagers,

Is it normal for them to want to spend time with you?

Dominic got jealous of my trips with Gideon, so he asked if we could go somewhere together.

My head immediately exploded.

I’m not complaining. I just don’t remember even wanting to admit I had parents, let alone be seen with them.

When I asked him where he wanted to go, he had no suggestions.

Me: I know you don’t want to go hiking in a state park like Gideon and I do.
Him: No.
Me: What about a city like Chicago or Philadelphia for the weekend?
Him: I have a gamer friend in Chicago.
Me: I’m not going to go all the way there and hang out with you and some gamer person you barely know.
Him: What about a road trip?
Me: Sure, but no more than four hours. I can’t do a car trip longer than that.
Him: I’ve got it!
Me: What?
Him: The towing museum!
Me: 💀

Back story:
When we all went to Chattanooga after Thanksgiving, we kept passing the International Towing Museum on our way to other, better known, sites such as Ruby Falls and Rock City. It became a joke:

One of us: Will we have time to go to the towing museum?
Another: After all, it’s the reason we are here isn’t it?

Like that. A joke. Because a TOWING MUSEUM?!

Dominic is CLEARLY my son, with a well-developed appreciation of the absurd.

So we went to Chattanooga last weekend.

I let him drive.

I let him pick a place to eat.

I let him pick the movie. (General Grievous is my favorite Star Wars character outside of the Han/Chewy duo [bromance].)

I let him sleep in.

I didn’t comment on the fact that he changed under the covers instead of in the bathroom like a normal person.

I did choose one activity: The incline railway. As many times as I’ve been to Chattanooga, I had never ridden it.

We were very interested in the Centennial Exhibits …

… until we realized it was just a few photographs along the hallway to the bathrooms.

After the railway, it was time for the main attraction: the towing museum.

The majestic quality of this museum necessitates its own post.

To be continued …

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Dear Tim Sweeney,

I know you don’t need my thanks — you’ve got $5.3 billion to give you comfort — but I do appreciate you. Without you, there would be no Fortnite. And without Fortnite, I wouldn’t have had this weekend’s bonding experience with Dominic.

Dominic had his friend Dylan over (COVID bubble FTW), and Gideon was at work. They were playing something together, but Dominic died in the game. Dylan was still going.

Dominic, emerging from his trash heap room: Do you want to play Fortnite?
Me: Me?
Him: Yes.
Me (shocked): Sure. Give me a few minutes.
Narrator: She did not want to play Fortnite, but knew she likely wouldn’t be asked again.

Let’s call this the fear of the Cat’s in the Cradle Phenomenon.

So he logged me into Gideon’s PS4.

Then he gave me Gideon’s headset and controller.

But that came with a warning:

Him: Don’t tell Gideon. He doesn’t like people touching his stuff.
Narrator: She told Gideon the second he got home. The response? “You played Fortnite without me?”

He showed me what all the buttons on the controller did.

Him: Push this one to jump.
Me: I won’t be jumping.
Him: OK. Just look and move and shoot.

He helped me set up my avatar. There is a mind-boggling array of choices. It took longer to choose my getup than it did to play the game.

Once that was done, we started the game. He took me to a quiet place so I wouldn’t get killed while I was learning how to play.

I managed to pick up some weapons, steal a truck, and fix my arm after a storm.

Dominic gave me his medical kit.

Awwwww.

During all this, I heard Dylan through Dominic’s headset:

Dylan: Is she any good?
Dominic: Yeah. She can run and follow directions.

Mostly, I followed Dominic. He was very patient. At one point, I said I liked the music that was playing.

Dominic: That’s not good music. That’s a bad sign. We need to get out of here.

The game didn’t last long. Someone sniped me while I was swimming across a lake.

Then it was time for Dylan to go home.

Dominic, coming in to shut off the game: That was good. You’re a lot better than our father.

That made me feel all warm inside.

(Sorry, Eddie.)

So thanks, Tim, for creating something that led to a a few lovely moments with my prickly teenager.

Sincerely,
Beth

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Dear Dominic,

As I told my friend and your “aunt” Sophia this week, laughs are in short supply lately. Luckily, I have you.

Let’s discuss one of your quirks.

Ever since you were little, you’ve had a thing about squeezing the bar soap until is a misshapen ball that no one wants to touch. You are 16 and still doing it. Why? I don’t know. You don’t know. But here we are:

Me to you: Please stop mangling the soap.
Gideon to you: Why do you do that?
You: I don’t know.
Me: Well, there are fresh soaps in the drawer.
You: I heard you say that, and I immediately thought, “Not for long.”

We all laughed. And as we were already laughing, I decided to show you a meme that had made me giggle all day:

So, of course, I brought up another meme that has made us cackle in the past:

True to form, we laughed so hard we started wheezing. I started doing that smoker’s laugh I’ve got, even though I’ve never been a smoker. (Friends, you know the one.)

Gideon even started laughing because we were laughing. So I showed him the meme that always gets him going:

It was a good night. Thank you for that. And for being you, even if you do maul the soap.

Love,
Mama

 

 

 

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This is what he wrote while walking home from work.

Dear Parents of Teens:

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.* Maybe you can relate.

If there is one thing my boys have been this week is a fantastic distraction from chaos in the Capitol.

Here are some vignettes that have amused me:

Dominic, lifting the lid of the pot on the stove: What’s this?
Me: Turkey chili.
Dominic: I’m using the slotted spoon so I don’t get as much liquid.
Me: Why? Use the ladle there against the side of the pot to drain it off.
Dominic: Too late.
Me: (loud sigh)
Dominic: I love you.

Me, eating too many chips a few days before I decided to begin my diet again: I’ve given up.
Gideon: Haven’t we all?

Dominic, listening to ’80s music that he has JUST DISCOVERED like he’s some kind of musical Magellan: You know that piña colada song?
Me: Of course.
Dominic: How do they not have trust issues afterward?

Me, hosing Gideon down with Lysol as we come in the door: OK. Now do me.
Gideon: OK
Me, slipping in the spray on the floor: (high-pitched yodel)
Gideon: So you turn into Michael Jackson when you nearly fall?

Dominic: Are they all back from Marshall’s?
Me: “All” who? It was just your father and Gideon.
Dominic: Gideon brought a posse into Publix. Three girls!
Me: What? I knew about two. Who’s the third?
Dominic: I don’t know.
Me: Are you jealous? Don’t you have a girl?
Dominic: Yes, I’m jealous. I’m all alone. [The girl] and I are on a break.

Dominic: Have you seen the home screen on Gideon’s new phone?
Me: No! What is it?
Dominic: His new girl.
Me, yelling down the hall to Gideon: I bought you that phone. Now let me peep that girl!
Dominic: (laughs like Muttley)

Me to our Alexa device outfitted with the Samuel L. Jackson voice: Hey Samuel, set a two-hour timer.
Samuel L. Jackson: Two hours, Motherf—er.
Gideon, from inside the bathroom: (laughs like Muttley)

Me, seeing Gideon has a bag of fruit: Why do you have that?
Gideon: Remember? [His girl’s name] and I have a picnic date.
Me: Oh right.
Gideon: She wants me to meet her mom. What do I say?
Me: Hello.

If you have stories to share — funny or not — please do.

Otherwise, I’ll be over here by myself, regretting my decision to do Dry January.

Yours in solidarity,
Beth

*Thanks, Chuck.

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Dear Santa:

Any other year, this SNL sketch really would have resonated with me.

But this year is different. All my whining bitching complaining gentle nudging finally paid off.

Eddie and the boys did something great for Mother’s Day AND my birthday.

Not only did I get a balloon and presents to open (this is a big deal), but Eddie also apparently was paying attention when I said this to Gideon:

When you get further along in your guitar lessons, I’ll start playing drums again. We’ll start a band.

Eddie got me a drum kit for my birthday.

He didn’t really knew how to set it up, but BY GOD HE TRIED!

😳

It’s great, but we live in an apartment. His rationale was that if the leaf blower guy can do his thing every day, so can I.

Yeah, no.

Now I am looking for studio space.

Still, it’s a thoughtful, fun gift. Hella impractical, but appreciated.

This year, I feel certain my family will come through for me on good Christmas gifts. So I’m going to ask for more altruistic things:

  1. COVID vaccines for normal people. (Certainly not for asshat politicians who spent months denying COVID, organizing super-spreader events and not wearing masks.)
  2. The ability to travel freely again.
  3. A peaceful transition of power.
  4. Jail time for the guilty.
  5. Control of the Senate. (Side benefit: Mitch sidelined.)

I hope that this list isn’t too hard to finagle. If anyone can do it, you can.

Thanks, Santa.

Love always,
Beth

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Dear Kathy … Mother … Mom,

On this day many years ago (we do NOT need to say just how many), you made a difficult decision. It was the right one for both of us.

Thank you for facilitating my exit from your life then inviting me back in this year.

It was a long time coming, right? I felt weird about searching for you while my adoptive parents were still alive, but I thought about you regularly. I often wondered if I ever passed you on the street.

Thanks to Ancestry.com, I connected with Cousin Laura, and she led me to you.

It may have taken a while, but once we finally talked, it was great — easy conversation from that first call.

And when I finally met you over Memorial Day weekend? Well. Let’s just say that so many things finally made sense. Dislike of raw onions? Love of cooking? Obsession with rocks and shells?

The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. In fact, it’s practically still on the tree.

Meeting my half siblings Kara and Lodell was so cool and illuminating. We were quoting movies within the first 10 minutes. Same sense of humor.

It felt like a missing puzzle piece clicked into place.

And that night playing Taboo with you, them and some of their kids? I looked around and realized that, for the first time in my life, I was blood related to everyone there.

That was a big moment.

When we got everyone together for Labor Day, it was overwhelming in a good way. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews — all with the same open nature, genuine warmth and dry sense of humor.

And the boys love having “New Grandma.” Gideon told his friend the other day about this exchange:

You, telling me about the hotel room you booked for us: I took care of the first night.

Me, in a joking way: I said no!

You: But I said yes, and I’m your mother.

They thought that was great. I did too.

I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you this year. It’s one of the few good things that happened in 2020. My heart is full.

And I look forward to spending more time with you when the world gets back to normal.

Happy holidays. And thank you for making a difficult decision. It was the best birthday gift: my birth.

With much love,
Beth

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Dear God,

My mother said she prayed to you that I would have a child just like me. I recognized that as a threat by an aggravated woman.

You delivered.

But I think you went too far.

I had common sense, at least.

Dominic does not have common sense.

Here’s why I know this to be true:

1. The exchange below. Context: I set up a new Google Voice number for students in my class to use. I asked the family to test it.

2. The fact that he came into my bedroom at 9:30 Thursday night holding a package of turkey bacon without the packaging. That’s right: 10 or so strips of bacon in his bare hands.

Him: I opened the refrigerator, and this fell out onto the floor.

Me, stunned: Well, don’t bring it naked and dripping INTO MY BEDROOM!

I wish I had taken a photo. I was too revolted at him turkey touching everything to think about that.

He does make up for it by making me laugh with things like this:

And remember our Rock City visit? This is how he ruined an artsy shot I was trying to take:

Yes, that’s his shoe. 🙄

This kid.

So thanks, I guess, for giving me Dominic in all his glory.

Sincerely,
Beth

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