Happily Ever After

            Kate sits in her favorite chair, wine glass in hand, cushy velvet slippers adorning her feet, and sips slowly from the glass. The living room is spotless, and a peaceful quiet fills the air. She wonders for a moment how she got to this place of tranquility and remembers with a grin. Ah, yes. Kevin. The man of her dreams. It was fate who brought her to this very moment.

             Ha.

             I’m Kate, and I’m in my living room sipping a quick cocktail because my six-year-old just yelled, “You’re not the boss of me!” then hit me. The wine glass is a façade, really, a ploy that momentarily tricks me into thinking my life is serene and majestic.

And, yes, I’m a good mother.

 

            I don’t typically resort to numbing life’s pain with alcohol. Life is all about pain, and I face it head on! It’s just that facing a ticked off kindergartner is a little scary sometimes.

            So here I sit, in blissful silence. Blissful. Silence. Well, blissful’s correct, but the silent part may be a tad inaccurate. “Mommy!” stomp, stomp. “Mommy! I need you!” stomp, stomp. I didn’t know the ceiling could talk. I’m sure it will apologize soon for hitting me. I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive the ceiling just yet.

            (Yes, the word ceiling is a metaphor for my little princess.)I know you’re thinking that parents aren’t supposed to judge their children, that we can discipline with love and be the “adults” who don’t hold grudges or stoop down to a child’s level. I believe that – I really do. It’s just that right now, sitting in my living room all alone, I have to wonder why I ever agreed to pay for TaeKwonDo lessons. I mean, who does she really need to defend herself against? It’s the rest of us who need protecting.

            And Kevin. Dear, sweet, Kevin. My very own Prince Charming; the man I chose. I-CHOSE-HIM. I repeat those words slowly time and again, my mantra; a reminder of that happy day that changed my life.

            He’s a prince.

            Absolutely.

            In fact, moments before Isabella asserted her independence, my prince shared in the joy of our marital union by watching our favorite t.v. show with me. Albeit, we had to watch it on the laptop because our DVR is broken, but that made the moment more cozy. We actually had to touch each other. It was pure bliss!

           Sadly, our cuddle time was harshly interrupted by a calamity of proportions so large, my knight yelled, “Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, *!*!” To utter that word, something disastrous must have happened. I jumped up, knowing that Kevin just witnessed a tragic accident through the front window. As he did, I felt a wetness creeping around my waist. Great.

            “Honey? What is it?”

            “I spilled my drink.” Hmmmm. I don’t recall him even having a drink, and I say so. He smiles the smile of true love and says, “I had shoulder pain, so I balanced the can on my neck. It was cold.”

            He had a pain in the neck? Oh, the irony!!

            Yes, the man I daydreamed about all of my childhood placed an open canned beverage on his neck while watching a t.v. show on our computer. The can tipped over (who could have seen that one coming?!) and rolled off his neck, drizzling the cushions of our couch.

            I love, honor, and cherish this man. 

            I really do.