Does your husband talk smack?Mine sure does. You'd think he could use one finger to lift a truck. That he climbed Mt. Everest--naked. That he went to the moon WITHOUT A SPACECRAFT! That's how Cade seems . . . when he talks. My kids think he's awesome. The Zombie Elf told me yesterday, "The bad guys hate daddy because he has muscles."
Well, I have news for my innocent children. I have muscles too! I want my children to think I'm awesome. I might not be able to lift a truck with my pinkie, but I can change the oil! I wouldn't climb Mt. Everest naked, but I'd watch a movie about it (Mt Everest, not me climbing naked)! I can do the dishes, talk on the phone, feed a baby, AND make a cake all at the same time! Sure, I'm not the coolest mother out there, but I like making cake.I know what you're thinking. "Wow. P. M. S., right?"
Wrong! This is me having an issue with jealousy. The ugly, green marital monster reared its head, blah blah blah--SAVE IT! Those children think they're daddy is amazing, and sometimes in comparison I feel like a schlub! Wanna know what a schlub is? Take a gander!!!
There's nothing worse than being a schlub, and they're normally pictured as dudes. If that quadriplegic got reincarnate as a schlub
. . . he must have led a really bad life before. Can you say, "Politician" or "Lawyer!"
Anyway, we went to a party a few days ago. Cade started joking around, riding a kiddy bike. He talked smack. "Women's legs are different then men's, so I bet it's impossible for you to even ride a bike this small."
"Really?" I spat. "I could ride that thing! I could ride it with my eyes closed. I can do anything that you can do!" Wow, yeah me.
My kids giggled. "It's okay, Mama," The Hippie said. "You can't be good at everything."
Imagine my sadness, my horror at hearing her words. I felt like a Schlub El Primo. Something needed to be done and quickly. That's when I challenged Cade to a duel--a race! If I whooped his butt in front of the children, they'd love me more--HA HA!
Here's Cade riding the first time:
"Cade," I said after a moment of standing strong. "I challenge you to a kiddy bike race. We'll have it after The Hippie's birthday party in two days . . . in front of witnesses. We'll each use a kiddy bike. May the best spouse win!"
We shook hands on it then and prepared for the craziest race known to husband and wife. I dreamed about it, laughed in my sleep and even choreographed my victory dance. Too bad things aren't always as you dream.This is how the real race went down:
Who do you think won?