Bad Ass Certification Complete

11992027_10207526605428942_1253756695_n

 

Yesterday, my husband had our car.  We are about to buy another car. That, in and of itself,  is a long story that I will not bore you with.  Let’s just leave it at: yesterday, I was at home without a car. Yes,  I could have called a friend to take me, yet again, to Kroger. Yes,  I could have called my father in law, to drive across town, to take me to Kroger. I could have walked to Kroger.  I could have called Uber and gone to Kroger. I could have gotten my ass to Kroger to get stuff for dinner, but I did not. I despise going to the grocery store. It is my least favorite chore on the planet.  I will do just about anything to get out of it.   I chose to work out at home, and then clean off my back porch that looked like Sanford and Son’s back porch.  Then, I mowed my back yard and bagged up some leaves.   My husband was picking up The Middle Child after her chorus rehearsal at 5:00, so I texted him a short list of items to please pick up at Kroger on the way home, and  I never thought about dinner again.

When the mail came, a vinyl thingy I ordered on Etsy was in it. It was for The Baby’s new
“Star Wars” themed room and says “May The Force Be With You” in silver.  I have always just painted straight on the wall. These vinyl things scare the shit out of me.  They come with directions–something I don’t follow very well. So, when I heard The Middle Child and my husband come through the door, I was upstairs, applying that damn vinyl thingy to The Baby’s wall, cussing up a storm.  Thank God I got the damn thing level.  It was the hardest thing I have done in my life. The Middle Child came into the room to see it.  “Did y’all go to the store?” I asked. “No”she said. I just rolled my eyes and shook my head and said, “Great.” About that time, The Baby came running up the stairs with my husband, to show him the new vinyl.  I was so pissed about the grocery store, I couldn’t help myself.  ” I guess you decided not to go to the store?” I dug in.  “Not yet” he replied.  I went into our room and started changing my clothes.  I had heard The Baby ask him to go outside and play with his giant foam airplane, and that should and would take precedence over the damn grocery store.  I would take my ass to Kroger so that my husband could play outside with The Baby.  The two of them went out to play.  I was still getting ready to go when my husband came in and asked if we had a ladder.  I am the one who paints, repairs, etc. around here …LOLheisenberg_meth  So, I informed him that no, our ladder is not tall enough to reach the roof.  When I need to do any roof work,  I always have to borrow a ladder.  Now right here is where I am going to get to the nitty gritty of the story.  Our next door neighbor was not at home, so we could not borrow a ladder from him.  I was not about to call my father in law and ask him to drive across town, just to get this damn plane off the roof.  Recent unfortunate events have led to the demise of what was a really good friendship with one of our other neighbor’s .  I have taken ownership and apologized for my role, but unfortunately it is the type of situation that cannot be fixed, and I wish that things were different.  I would still do anything for them if they needed me-though I know they would not ask.  It used to be that I would just go over and borrow their ladder.  In my crazy town head, I wondered if they were over there, laughing at the fact that we did not have a ladder and The Baby’s plane was stuck on the roof.  This, my friends, this thought alone, was enough fuel to complete my Bad Ass Certification.  I went into the house and slammed the door.  My ass was going onto the roof, hell or highwater.  I stormed out the back door.  I was sure that my husband was going to come out there, but he did not, and that was a damn good thing.  I started taking chairs off the back porch.  Thank God I had just cleaned off the back porch, or I wouldn’t have been able to find the damn chairs.  I tried putting this 6ft old, wooden, rickety ladder into these chairs. Not tall enough.  Dammit.  I stood there and thought. And thought and thought and thought.  There had to be a way.  I was just sure my neighbor was probably saying, “she should just get on her broomstick and fly up there”…..And in my crazy town head, I thought, if I had one, I’d have flown to fucking Kroger earlier and gotten groceries for dinner, bitch!….  a5238b5ae19db3dcac10b35a0df8c215

I don’t know..Maybe I am the only one who has these types of dialogues in my own head? So….It was on. I remembered that our large round umbrella table was on the bottom patio, so I ran down and got it. In flip flops.  I positioned it just under the lowest part of our roof, and made sure there were bricks under the legs so it would not sink in the pea gravel.  I put that rickety-ass ladder up on that table and climbed aboard, all the while, trying to figure out where the the hell my Wonder Woman cape from Six Flags might be. I knew it was in my closet.  I also knew it would take time to find it and had the potential to ruin my surprise of getting onto the roof in the first place, so I just ditched that thought and moved on.  I got to the top of the ladder and chickened out.  There was no fucking way.  Also, I was in my semi-good jeans and a shirt I liked–I had changed to go to the grocery store, remember? I climbed back down.  Then I remembered the thought that had fueled the fire in the first place,  and climbed back up, this time, all the way up on top of the rickety-ass ladder.  I hoisted one knee on top on the roof and that was all she wrote. I was up there. Yep. In flip flops.  I have been on our roof many times, so I was not scared.  I ran across and picked up the airplane.  I yelled The Baby’s name.  “MOM! HOW DID YOU GET UP THERE?” he yelled.  “Don’t worry about it!” I said.  About that time, my husband came out from under the carport-his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.  “HOW did you get up there?” he asked.  “I’m resourceful” I said.  “You’re a Bad Ass” he said.  I just smiled and said thank you.  I won’t need any compliments from him for years.   In my mind, for your own husband to call you a “Bad Ass”…well, that is about the highest compliment one can ever receive….even though my children have been calling me that for years 😉

I must say that Mini Me was not home when all of this occurred.  When he heard all of this, he called me a “Dumb Ass”….. 😉 I am sure that Mothah might agree….. I will also say that my husband did come around to the back and hold the ladder so I could climb down safely, and all’s well that ends well.  Bad Assery, well done 😉

11 thoughts on “Bad Ass Certification Complete

  1. You are not alone in your internal dialog, but today, you definitely stand alone in your bad-assery. I LOVED this story. I swear, I feel like we live semi-parallel lives. I’m the one who doesn’t mind grocery shopping though, but I do celebrate Breaking Bad in a BIG way! You go, WW!! From another WW 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sounds like an awesome certification. The very best feeling one can have is the loving approval and admiration from loved ones. name made me follow you, who could not love stories from the psychomother. And if if makes you feel any better, I have many conversations in my head that are quite similar 🙂

    Like

From the Peanut Gallery.....

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s