The Meat and Potatoes of Life by Molinari Lisa Smith;

Author:Molinari, Lisa Smith;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elva Resa Publishing
Published: 2020-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

SEASON 3 EPISODE 13

ONE OF THOSE DAYS

I always believed I’d be able to manage our family life without compromising my standards. Apparently, I was wrong, because there I was crying like a baby while careening down the expressway in my dingy minivan. Wearing my standard black workout pants, ratty tennis shoes, and a fleece jacket adorned with dog hair, I struggled to see through my tears and the bug guts still on the windshield from our spring break trip. All three kids sat in their seats, unfazed. They’d seen this kind of crazed display before.

It had been one of those days. This time, the breaking point occurred during an after-school conference with Hayden’s English teacher. News of our son’s academic transgressions, coupled with the normal events of everyday life—work deadlines, dirty laundry, the price of gas, dust bunnies, hormones—was just enough to bring me to the brink.

And I used to be so sure of myself. …

One dreary winter before Lilly was born, Francis and I traveled to Boston to visit his old college roommate who, like Francis, was married with kids, a job, and a mortgage. They were a few years ahead of our life schedule, so visiting them was like looking into our future.

While our husbands snuck off to drink beer somewhere, I hung out with the other wife as she went about her day as a stay-at-home mom to three kids.

Riding in her dingy minivan to school, I felt a subtle twinge of anxiety. My counterpart was somewhat tensely gripping the wheel, wearing her husband’s jacket, workout pants marred with a blob of dried schmutz, slippers, and a pair of broken sunglasses that sat crooked on her face. The floor of the van was strewn with debris—discarded kids’ meal toys, juice boxes, crumpled wrappers, and tidbits of food.

As she chatted about leaving her career as an attorney to raise the kids, my mind wandered. What is that stuff on her pants? Can’t she scrape it off with her thumbnail? With those glasses cocked sideways, she looks like she might suddenly run us all off a cliff. At least if we are stranded in a ravine, we could survive a few days on the old french fries and Skittles under the seats.

Back at her house, she washed out two dirty cups, served us some coffee and slumped into a scratched kitchen chair with the newspaper. I could tell that skimming the newspaper over coffee each day was her one indulgence and depriving her of this little break from her chaotic routine might just sever her precarious hold on sanity.

I puttered to allow her time to read.

“Hey, listen to this,” she suddenly commanded. “A man filed a missing persons report because his wife and mother of their children disappeared last week. Don’t you know, they found her, happily living in a newly rented apartment. Apparently, she loved her family dearly but desperately needed a break, so she ran away.”

My crazed hostess lifted her head from her paper and stared out the window for a few seconds before mumbling, “She … just … ran away.

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