At first I thought I might have suffered a concussion and was lost somewhere in my subconscious. Then I noted my chipped toe polish and remembered how gravely I needed a pedicure. No proper delusion of mine would allow an image so unattractive. So it must be real. Let me explain…
I’m sitting in a chair on the patio. I repeat: I’m sitting. In a chair. On the patio. My husband is prepping dinner. Lobster dinner. Our kids are playing alongside each other. Madeleine in the kiddie pool. Luke, busily arranging his “race track” with his array of cars, complete with self-made sound effects ranging from rumbling engines, blaring horns and what sounds to me like fart noises but I’m sure he’s intending it to sound like something you’d hear at Daytona. He’s utterly absorbed.
Even the weather is cooperating. Not too hot, not too humid. A light breeze surrounds us as the sun begins to set.
Have I won some sort of lottery?
Madeleine is having a conversation with the garden hose while sipping day-old pool water like tea. I stop myself from shrieking. Who knows, it may even be an immunity booster. Oh God, there’s a dead mosquito in the pool. But still I don’t shout STOP sipping that toilet water!
I’m reading a magazine. Only once have I been interrupted because my services were needed to repair the arm of a Transformer. Madeleine is nude, of course. (Insert audio of passionate rendition of the Transformers theme song by Luke.) Everyone is happy. Yes, this feels good.