November 26, 2012
After little more than five weeks since my back surgery, it seems that the honeymoon is officially over at my house. Yes, that’s right. The sympathy that initially stunk up the place has now converted it’s way to, “Oh my gosh! When will this be over?”
My husband is a very funny man (seriously). He can make people laugh on a dime. Just ask any of his golfing buddies how jovial he is and they’ll tell you that he is, indeed, the king of comedy. That is, until he wears them out with incessant digs at their swings and putts.
He has been known to make candid (if not rude) remarks such as, “Hmm, that wasn’t a very good effort” or “How many times have I told you? Square at impact! Square at impact!” But most often, you will find him shaking his head after a drive saying, “You’re not gonna like that one.”
Darren is a little hard of hearing and because he’s a funny guy, he likes to make a game of it. If someone says, “Hey, what’s up?” he might respond with, “Pass the ketchup? What did you say?” Now, it’s really funny the first few times a person hears it, but after about the 15th time, it becomes highly irritating to his wife.
Having a deep desire to mimic my husband’s humor, I enjoy coming up with my own little sayings and irritants. So after my surgery I decided to find my niche in asking for help.
Too common was ringing the bell and too old was the saying, “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” So being the creative person that I am, I opted to use my very own saying; “Ut-Oh!”
Every time I dropped something I would say, “Ut-Oh!” If I couldn’t reach something I would holler, “Ut-Oh!” If I ran out of water; “Ut-Oh!” If I needed a blanket; “Ut-Oh!” If I couldn’t find the remote control; “Ut-Oh!” If someone rang the doorbell; “Ut-Oh!”
Yes, finally “Ut-Oh” has met its demise. My loving, comedic husband and my beautiful, endearing children have had their fill. It breaks my heart because I was enjoying “Ut-Oh’s” company so very much. I don’t have much else to do right now, so the entertainment that “Ut-Oh” provided was not only humorous, but had become a constant companion in my state of woe.
The only thing I know to do at this point is to begin edging back into some state of normalcy around here.
Since the Lefevers family seems to be in dismay without Momma on top of her A game, I have no choice but to reinstate some consistency by way of firm delegation.
That’s right! If they insist on taking “Ut-Oh” away from me, I feel compelled to retaliate. Henceforth, I shall make lists of things to be accomplished in a timely manner without complaint or compromise. In other words, I am taking back my crown, scepter and throne.
The queen of the house has awakened like a dragon just in time to begin the Christmas season.
There will be cleaning, shopping, baking, decorating, gift wrapping and more baking. There will be cards addressed, stamped and mailed while I sip eggnog through a straw — just because I can!
They will make calls, deliver goods, bathe the dogs and then begin again. Yes, there will be children dancing with bells on their shoes, singing Christmas carols as they hang mistletoe. All will be right with the world as I joyously orchestrate the entire event all because they stole my “Ut-Oh!”
Oh, the joy of it all!
Until, of course, Darren hears “golfing” when I say “cleaning,” Ryan conveniently “runs late” and Devin “accidentally” burns the bread. That’s when they’ll turn “Ut-Oh” loose again. The only catch being change of possession. They will occupy those two little words relentlessly in a complete state of amnesia as to where they once belonged.
My attempts to regain control of the family unit will certainly be thwarted by a lack of attention to detail. I will inevitably be forced to roar my terrible roar and gnash my terrible teeth until I surrender my royal authority to the heathens due to my temporary lack of physical ability to abruptly reach out and grab an ear.
The honeymoon may be over for now, but war is on the horizon and everyone knows that although battles must sometimes be waived due to circumstances beyond our control, Mom’s always win the war.
I am confident that come Christmas Day, someone will have wrapped “Ut-Oh” beautifully in a box, ready to be handed back to the queen along with the rest of her royal utensils. Yes, it’s only a matter of time, my dearies; only a matter of time.
Have a fun week!