Spring Break

Spring break sends me into escape mode.

I love my son but I am really not a ‘kid’ person. I used to be when I was younger but now I’m  a parent and jaded. He’s seven. Gone are the days when I could stare in fascination at his cleverness. I am just Lego-ed out. We also know each other so well that we bore one another after eight hours together. Yes, it sounds awful. Yes, you go through the same thing.

When five o’clock hits and Daddy gets home, I look for any excuse to get the hell out of the house.

“Oh Hi! Honey, do you want a beer? Oops. Shit. Out of beer! Let me just run and get that for you!!! Back in a flash, you big stud of a man.” (I don’t really say that last part. That’s what I’m sure goes through his mind. And any other variation of stallion, hero, sex machine, etc. I let him dream.)

Off I go, twenty precious silent fucking minutes to myself!!! Amen! (Can you hear the angels singing?)

I get to the small town country store that sells gas, groceries, prophylactics and booze. We require one-stop-shopping here in the wilds of Alberta. You have to be able to live your whole life in your truck. And apparently, to work in said store, you have to be certifiably batshit crazy.

As a reformed mental health worker, I still carry that wondrous professional demeanor that attracts all manner of folks to engage in conversation with me. I believe it’s the kind look, the tented fingertips and the sympathetic nodding. I look like you can confide in me. I look like I give a shit. Oft times, I’m okay with it. Hubby is too. He stands off to the side as I get my ear bent by a dirt covered street person who is telling his story as I give him money.

But on breaks from school? Yeah. NO TALKYTALKY!!! I am here to get beer, groceries, gas and prophylactics!!!!! Not to fucking VISIT!!!

As I walked into the store, the gal who’s been there FOREVER said to me “Greetings”. Because I was in a good mood from being in the cone of silence (otherwise known as my car) I responded with “Earthling”. That was the absolute worst thing I could have said.

“Oh, did you know that on other planets, they don’t call us earthlings? They call us Terrans”! (oh my fucking god.) “Did you know that aliens with tails already live here??? They’re called shape shifters”! (nod and smile, Leanne. nod and smile.)

That woman blathered on excitedly for I don’t know how long. So much so that she started to get those little pockets of spit at the corners of her mouth.

I have never before prayed for a horrible, slaughtering blood-bath of a hold up. I figured I could sneak away while she was busy with the carnage.

SPRING BREAK!!! NO TALKYTALKY!!! I extricated myself, finally. Got in my happy silent car and with a sigh of relief, headed for home. Ahhhhhhh…

As I was motoring down the road, quite near my home, my car did this weird thing. It decided to spin its rear end around. I thought, “Well that’s puzzling.” A well-trained winter driver remembers to drive through the skid and not lose their shit. I tried that. For a moment. It didn’t work.

I believe my exact thoughts were “Whoops!WhoopswhoopsWHOOPSWHOOPSWHOOPSOHDEARGODTHISISGOINGTOHURT”! 

I stopped with one front tire almost squeaking over the edge to take me down sideways into the coulee. I grabbed my wallet and phone to jump out and as I did so, the car slide another foot towards the trees. Which hurt my feelings. I was like, “Really, Subaru? 165 pounds? Really? I’m that heavy?”

I rang the hubby and the neighbour to pull me out. Then I tried to call Jesus. I couldn’t get him so I called his dad.

“Hey, Holy, it’s me. What. the. fuck?”

“Hi. Listen, hang on a sec. I have to pause my PVR.” (Yes. God has one.)


“Oh that! Look, I was just fucking around with you! You seemed kinda bitchy to that alien lady in that store and well, I thought I should, you know…”

“Kill me?”

“Aw, no, just, you know…”

“You’re bored, aren’t you?”

“Little bit.”

I hung up. When Holy is bored, there is no point in telling him to knock his weird shit off. If he thinks he’s getting a rise out of you, he feeds on the attention.

When hubby pulled up, he got a strange look on his face. “How the hell…”

“I don’t know! There was an alien lady at the beer store and Jesus wouldn’t take my call and I’m never leaving the house AGAIN!!!”

“Oh. Well. That explains everything.”

I kissed my son. Many, many times. We loved each other hard for the next few days. And yesterday, during a tickle fight, his foot flew out of nowhere and hit me on the bridge of my nose. We all heard the crunch.

Three days into spring break. Not sure if I’ll survive.

20 thoughts on “Spring Break

  1. Just wait a few more years, when he thinks you are dumber than dirt and doesn’t want anything to do with you. You will spend your time trying for find “everyone else” (by the way he/she doesn’t exist) becasue “everyone else” gets to … or goes to .. or is allowed to … I used to threaten to beat “everyone else” if I ever found him/her.
    Enjoy this time. Hope the nose is fine. I once got shot with a paper air plane and had an eye patch on for days.

  2. I have wiped the tears from my face and stopped laughing enough to comment and what should I write in way of a comment well let me think hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ok got it don’t diss the alien lady in the grog shop and you will not end up in a ditch how does that sound…………….like my grandson Leo as he will add the words “how does that sound” to the end of most of the stuff he says…………….lol

    How long is spring break??????????? We don’t have spring break down here…………

  3. HAHAHA! I’ve been in your alien shoes! A couple years ago I went to a NYE party. In the end, three girls and and a guy were left up. (in case you’re wondering, I was one of those girls). After awhile, this guy started talking about aliens. He had tried off and on the entire night to talk to all of us in turn about his fucked up aliens, but no one really listened. One of the girls (not me) humored him. He went on and on and on and on and on and on about the good aliens and the bad aliens. Dude even had NAMES for each type of aliens. I later begged to share a bed with one of the girls because the dumbass was drunk, talking about aliens and abductions, AND to top this shit off, he had a fucking gun.

    I didn’t go to that party this last year. *cough*

  4. You know, I totally thought there was something about you that drew me in…. I thought “this lady is funny, oh and she’s not a “kid person” (me either) and she blathers and swears and drinks beer. She is fucking Canadian (God’s Country, Yo)” But really, the only thing drawing me to you is your magnetism for crazies. Damn. Oh well. I’m good with it.

    Good luck with the rest of spring break… XO



    Are you fucking serious, woman?!? No. Your account of spring break takes the cake, wins the prize, and whatever else a really, really good story does. I am very glad you’re okay. That’s it. Best thing I’ve read since I’ve been back. I’m linking to you on my facebook page.

  6. Hahah…see, thats what worries me about the thought of having kids. They’re ALWAYS AROUND. You can’t just give them back for a bit when you need a break, right? Sigh.

Go on. Talk to Mama Duck.

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