This weekend, I am heading to Indianapolis to say goodbye to my friend. The past few weeks have been a flurry of wrapping some things up, getting travel reservations finalized, etc. All this while hoping that Manoj's relaxed standards toward Food Safety and Storage kick in and that while I am gone, he finishes all the leftovers in the fridge. One of the many, many benefits to my Indian husband is his Intestines Forged of Iron.
Added to my list lately has been what I like to call Spoiled White Girl Problems, I've Got 'Em
Spoiled White Girl Problems, I've Got 'Em
Exhibit A: The toaster broke. WOE IS ME, I have to buy a new goddamned toast because without toast, our house falls APART.
Exhibit B: The DVD player broke. WOE IS ME, not only did I have to wait an extra day to finish Dexter: Season One, but I also had to pay more MONEY. And in the category of Mo' Money, Mo' Problems, I had to agonize over whether to upgrade to a Blu-Ray player. Agony, I tell you. Because I am a Spoiled White Girl and Made of Money. Lots of MONEY.
Exhibit C: The Dishwasher broker. WOE IS ME, we have to buy a part for it now with all that Money I was just bragging about. While I have freely admitted in the past that I enjoy washing dishes by hand, what I do not particularly relish is a marathon episode of washing an entire load of dishes that had been languishing impatiently for several days in the aforementioned, traitorous DishNotWasher.
Exhibit D: The clothes washer was leaking for a day . WOE IS ME. Fortunately, it was leaking inside the tub thingie. And while we have established that I clothe myself in MONEY, I still smacked that bastard around until it had the good sense to get its act together and stop the hell with The Leaking.
Exhibit E: Meanwhile, my fancy pants car has gotten wind of the recent unrest and is on the brink of revolt. The air conditioner seems to be in cahoots and at times, I find myself sitting in traffic sweating. Folks, SWEATING. Gentle Reader, have I already not mentioned the Spoiled and White part? WOE IS ME. Seriously, sweat is just not My Thing. Trust me, I have other Things that are My Thing. I cannot think of what those other Things might possibly be, but whatever, I have Things, I assure you.
And yet, despite all this recent mutiny, our 20+ year old grease-spattered oven that melts kitchen timers survives. Speaking of the wretched Kitchen Timer, I need to add that to the shopping list. Also? Add MONEY. I am in want of more of it.
The final tick on my To Do list that I had hoped to have wrapped up was a myriad of outside projects getting fixed on our house after a crazy hailstorm in April. Our contractor comes out, fixes one thing, then leaves. Or, even better, tries to fix the WRONG THING. Then, he leaves. Every single day, my To Do list includes the item "Call Stan."
With that, I am going to throw out some cute things my kiddos have said and slap up some Simian Snappage.
And then, I am going to call Stan.
Anjali: All the elephants in India wear COSTUME clothes!
I don't know where she gets that idea.
Arun: Anju why were you crying during musical chairs at school today?
Anju: Because I was missing Mama.
Me: Anju, but I thought you didn't like me.
Anju: Yes, but I miss you while I am at SCHOOL.
The other day, Anjali asked for something and yet, I did not rise immediately to meet Her Royal Highness' latest whim.
Anju: Mama, you aren't getting my milk! You have to do things you don't WANT to do. That's what grownups are FOR, helping CHILDREN.
Damned straight, I am one Spoiled White Girl.