The second wonderful friend who came to my rescue was the beuatiful, the effervescent (ooh, Family Word!) Natalie from Mommy of A Monster (I mean toddler) and Infant Twins. I am so very grateful that I am surrounded by such generous, talented friends.
When I found out I was going to be able to write a guest post for In Pursuit of Martha Points, I was so excited! I did the happy dance and everything! And then it occurred to me that I am anything but a domestic goddess. That Martha (the real one, not Lori) would look down her nose and shake her head at my cooking, cleaning, organizing, and crafting abilities. I’m sure if I started keeping track, I’d have negative points. Like in the hundreds or thousands.
And what to write? I needed something funny and witty and clever that wouldn’t make me look like too big of an idiot and that wouldn’t make Lori sorry for inviting me over to play. I couldn’t think of anything. So instead you’ll get disgusting, and we’ll just hope for the best.
Anybody (with the exception of hubby) and anything that poops in the house gets cleaned up by me. This includes the kids, a couple of dogs, and a fish. Yes, it’s a glamorous job, being on poop patrol. Tater is finally doing his business on the toilet, but still needs help with the clean up aspects of it all. The twins are only a year old, so I change a lot of diapers. The dogs only occasionally make a mess in the house.
But the fish? Once, sometimes twice a week I have to clean out the fish bowl. And it’s not so much a gross job as a pain-in-the-butt job. I have to remember to let the right amount of water get to room temperature so that I can use it to refill the bowl. I have to remember to get something to put the fish in while I clean out the bowl. I have to get the fish out of the bowl and into said container so the cleaning can be performed.
And that is where the story begins.
I always do all of this in the kitchen, so I can just dump the poop water right down the sink. I was trying to get the fish out of the bowl with the fish net, and he was being feistier than normal. As I pulled the net out of the water (you see where this is heading, right?), the fish jumped out of the net and went directly down the garbage disposal. Down the garbage disposal that I had filled with week-old leftovers that I cleaned out of the fridge after grocery shopping earlier that day (I get points for that, right Lori?). And I’m probably going to lose points for this: I put the leftovers in the garbage disposal, but forgot to turn it on.
So you see, this story is not really about poop. It is about whether or not I’m a good mom. Am I willing to stick my hand into a black hole filled with food and a fish and God knows what else?
Do I love my son enough to save his beloved fish from an untimely, rather cruel death?
Do I flip the switch or dive in?
I reached to flip the switch. One less thing I’d have to be responsible for…one less thing to feed and clean up after. It was within my reach. But I couldn’t do it. I knew I had to stick my hand down there. Because I couldn’t have that fish murderer karma surrounding me. Or have to explain to my kid what happened to his fish.
Of course, when I put my hand in the hole, I didn’t feel the fish. I felt a lot of other disgusting stuff, but not a flopping fish. I waded through poop water, corn, chicken, veggies, a little pasta…but no fish. I had to give my hand a couple of swirls around before I finally found the fish. I rinsed him off, and plopped him back in his dirty water. And Tater was none the wiser and the fish lived happily ever after.
Happily ever after, that is, until last Tuesday when the fish kicked the bucket. And guess what? Tater still hasn’t noticed that his beloved fish is no longer with us.
So how many points is that all worth?
Up to you all again, how many points for saving the wee fishy? Which, ugh…I find admirable, truly. And after you decide, make sure to head over to her place and read some of hysterical posts on how to cope with three, yes THREE, children three and under. Finding posts to share was hard, because I love ALL her “Your Know You’re A Mom,” posts, and ALL her cookings posts, but I especially loved her birth story on her girls’ first birthday and the pictures from her White Trash Party cracked me up, even though I’m damned annoyed at how hot her legs look.