Me, the miniseries
look at me
Remember self-indulgent novelist Ayelet Waldman? Well someone read her Salon piece and decided to write the following:
AYELET WALDMAN DESCRIBES HER DAY
[NOTE: We were actually just going to take this and replace every instance of the word "husband" with the word "penis," but it seemed a little juvenile. We went this way instead.]
5:30 A.M. Last night I set the alarm clock half an hour early so I could wake up before my husband does and stare at him while he sleeps. One of the kids was crying, but I shut the door. My husand looked so peaceful. Vital and peaceful. I love him.
6:15 A.M. After whipping up an omlette aux fines herbes and squeezing the oranges for his juice, I wake up my husband with the customary morning blowjob. Torrid. From what I can make out through the door, the kids have realized that they're going to have to cook their own breakfast again. I hope they also realize that if they make a mess, they're going to have to clean it up. This mommy business is rough, demanding stuff. The husband finishes his breakfast and takes me from behind.
7:00 A.M. While bathing the husband I notice a small mole on his back. Worry for a second that it might be cancerous. Weep. Wonder how I'll go on without him. Huge crash of dishes from the kitchen snaps me out of it. Continue scrubbing husband; those little brats better have that floor spotless by the time I get out there.
8:00 A.M. The hardest part of the day; I send the husband to his office. As soon as the door shuts, four faces look up at me, expecting - what, comfort? Caring? I flip on the TV and doodle variations of my first name and my husband's last name on a notepad.
8:30 A.M. Am worn out with all this child-rearing and sick with longing for my husband. I suggest that the children take a nap.
9:30 A.M. Daily crying jag.
10:30 A.M. Complete my blog post on suicide. If it weren't for my husband, I would have killed myself a long time ago.
11:30 A.M. Have finished dusting all the husband's pictures and knitting him a scarf. Need fresh air. Suggest that the children go play in the park for a little while. They want me to push them on the swings, but I tell them that Mommy's got things to do in the sandbox; if they want to join me, they may, but maybe it's time they learn a little self-reliance.
12:30 P.M. Complete construction of life-size sand-statue of my husband. I can tell that all the other moms in the park are jealous. Well, suck it, bitches.
1:00 P.M. Drag the kids along to Toys in Babeland. The owners called last night to let me know that there's a whole new section of stuff my husband can stick into me. I'm so excited. Eldest daughter somewhat disturbed when I explain the purpose of the double-headed dildo to her.
1:30 P.M. Compare prices on three-pronged rubber truncheon at Good Vibrations. It's slightly more expensive than at Babeland, but they split the difference since I'm in so often. Youngest boy goes crazy with spray-on lube while I'm at the counter. So embarrassing… I never thought I'd be one of those moms who has “difficult” children. Depression returns.
1:45 P.M. Husband calls on the phone to remind me to pick up dry cleaning. Light has returned to my life.
2:30 P.M. Put kids down for nap number two. Say my daily prayer, thanking Lord for my husband's brain, body, balls. Beg Him to keep my husband safe.
2:45 P.M. Begin writing column for Salon.
2:46 P.M. File column with Salon. Wonder if exploiting my children for an online magazine is a mortal sin or only a venial one.
3:30 P.M. Surprise treat! Husband home early! He fucks me against the sink AND does the dishes. Sometimes I think I'm the luckiest woman in the world.
4:30 P.M. Husband takes the kids to the park to give me a break. Being bookish, I use this time to catch up on my reading. Reread Wonder Boys. What a great book.
5:30 P.M. Everyone comes back. I make the usual fuss about the husband, and eldest daughter asks if I love the husband more than I love them. She's intuitive, this girl. I almost feel a slight twinge of affection toward her. Quickly suppress the feeling; I wouldn't want to take anything away from my husband.
6:00 P.M. Kids to bed. Showtime.
7:00 P.M. Sore and satisfied. Tell husband how much I love him.
8:00 P.M. Reading on the couch. Catch glimpse of husband, fold page of novel over. Husband folds me over.
9:00 P.M. Need large quantity of Vicodin for the physical pain. Take some Welbutrin for the mental pain.
10:00 P.M. Drift off to sleep in the arms of the greatest man in the world. What will tomorrow bring? I don't know, but as long as I have my husband, I can face any challenge. Even motherhood. My kids don't know how lucky they are. But I do. I love my husband. Husband husband husband. I have a husband! We still do it! Life is good. Good night!
posted by Steve @ 12:53:00 AM