Chicken Fried Vogue

For 15 years and most of her adult life, Bubblez lived in the suburbs of a major metropolitan city. She enjoyed taking her children to museums, parks, and dates at Starbucks. Then Bubblez moved to the country and her En Vogue attitude got chicken fried. Her yard is a park where the neighbor's rooster won't stop crowing, Starbucks is almost an hour away, and her large collection of fancy shoes is worthless. But, living in the acres of green has presented more opportunities for living "green" as Bubblez travels the path toward self-sufficiency (and bitches ((and prays)) along the way).

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

I Would Not Write About Scratching My Balls

I'm not a big fan of prefacing my blogs, but this one deserves an explanation. This is week 2 of the Play At Home game with Blogger Idol. The assignment is to write about a day in the life of me, but from the perspective of the opposite gender. So, here you are: a day in life of Bubblez King, if Bubblez were a man, which come to think of it, isn't that far fetched.

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Are the kids awake? No. Glancing at the clock, I decide I can give them 10 more minutes. "Good morning, baby." Maybe if I kiss her right there, almost under her ear? Hmm. Nope. Rolling over and stretching, I wiggle out of the twist of sheets and blankets I've been semi-cocooned in for probably half the night and lower my feet to floor. Yawn. Eye rub. Gotta pee.

I make my way past the bottom of the staircase and yell, "Girls! Are you up?" Teenie is getting too old for me to shake her awake. "Are you showering this morning? What do you want for breakfast?"

Now, when I ask "what do you want for breakfast," Teenie knows the answer is either, "I'll get myself some cereal" or "Toast." Boots, on the other hand, usually asks for oatmeal, but I don't dare rely on it or I'll be dealing with hysterics from her for several minutes, and from her mother for the rest of the day.

Ok, for three days. And it won't be hysterics so much as the dead silence that conveys how she's plotting to kill me. I don't know why they call it the silent treatment. I mean, her mouth is usually quiet, but between the stomping and slamming things about, life during these times is far from silent. Don't get me wrong, I love my wife, and I'm certain that she loves me, but you wake that woman up when she'd rather be sleeping, and you loose a demon.

I'd take this on, first. 
 Boots gives the go ahead for oatmeal so I pop that in the microwave, refill the water in the damn Keurig, and start slapping together PB&J's while the coffee water it heats. Both lunches are packed by the time the girls hit the kitchen. I eye Teenie suspiciously and ask if she's got a sweater or something she's planning to wear with that top. She rolls her eyes and holds up some furry looking black thing, and I take that as a yes. I plant a kiss on top of her head and check the clock. Man, she's getting big. "Ok, get your bags. The bus will be here any minute."

 Shelly stumbles out of the bedroom in time to ask if they remembered some paper or other and to say goodbye, then makes a beeline toward the bathroom. I get my coffee and sit down to check Facebook and messages. She'll be in there for an hour. This is my time, this little while before the boys get up.

I lay a kiss on Shelly before she rushes out the door, and set my cup on the counter before heading upstairs to roust the boys. Clothes and toys cover the floor. Nikpod is watching cartoons on his Touch. Moo is still asleep. A pile of Legos rests on the foot of the bed. I'll have to help him with that later. It's the new Batman set.

"Up and at 'em!" Scooping down to grab a t-shirt out of the clean laundry basket, I wad it up and throw it at Moo's head. "Come on. Get dressed. I'm making eggs. You guys want eggs?" Nikpod absently asks if he can finish his episode while Moo catapults himself out of bed and onto my back.

"Alright. Finish this ONE episode and then get your clothes on and come downstairs." I set Moo on the floor and start downstairs to cook. Im hungry, now. We'll eat breakfast and hit the books. This is Nikpod's sixth year of homeschooling and Moo's fifth. Teenie and Boots decided on public school this year. It's kind of fun hanging with just the boys all day. Fun, but exhausting.

The boys and I finish their school work about two hours before the girls get home. We do a few chores: loading the dishwasher and sweeping the floors. I send Nikpod up to get his dirty laundry and try to get Moo interested in those Legos again, but he's whining that he wants to play video games, instead, so we do.

Nikpod loads the washer and comes to watch. The next thing I know, the girls are walking in. They start chattering on a mile a minute about their day before finally leaving us to go scavenge for snacks, which makes me wonder whether Shel had plans for dinner or not. I shoot her a text at the office and finish my level on the game letting Moo win. He's a sore loser. Nikpod has disappeared with his Touch, again.

Shelly texts asking me to thaw hamburger for spaghetti. She has a late meeting, so the kids and I will be on our own, tonight.

After dinner we all sit around and watch cartoons on Netflix. Well, everyone does except Teenie. She's been in her room most of the evening doing homework and texting friends. Shelly comes home just in time to eat something before packing Boots off for a bath. I'll be mostly off duty now because this is pretty much the only time she sees the kids.

I consider going over to see one of my buddies, but my butt refuses to raise itself from the chair. Grabbing my iPhone, I zone out into cyberspace, telling myself that I'll get up in a minute and put Nik's clothes in the dryer since I know he forgot to do that.

Boots comes wandering downstairs in search of her teddybear and Daddy's goodnight hugs. "I love you, baby. Sleep tight. See you in the morning."

My heart.
 "Night night, Daddy."

Pretty soon, Shel will be beside me on the couch to tell me about her day, and then it will be her turn to disappear into cyberspace. I understand, but I really wish that she and I could spend more time together, even if that's just watching TV.

Changing into my sweats and a t-shirt, I climb into bed to read a little before, more likely than not, falling asleep with the book on my chest. Shelly will snuggle in beside me, move the book, and turn off the lamp. Depending on what mood she's in, we might make love and drift off into slumber wrapped in each others arms, waiting quietly for the alarm that signals that it's time to start over and do all of today, again.


  1. How, exactly, is it that you didn't win a spot as a finalist in Blogger Idol? Really, really just great. Well written and done in a spirit of respect and love. I thought the prompt was difficult and fostered sexism, however, in your capable hands... not so much.
    I am glad to see your posts.

    1. I'm flattered, and honestly, I think my old web design cost me points as well as whatever else. All of the finalists have classy looking websites and custom pics.

  2. Nicely written! Definitely seeing things from a guy's perspective, especially about spending time together, even if it's just watching TV together.


    1. Thank you. :) I was just thinking, if I was a SAHD...

  3. Wow.... this REALLY impressed me! Seriously! VERY well written!!!

  4. Wonderful! I enjoyed your pace and your thoughts flowed wonderfully from one idea to the next. You really became the man in this and you did a great job!

    1. Haha. My sister always jokes that I'm the one who wears the pants in the family. ;) Seriously, though, I told my husband I was just trying to imagine being married to me, but still be me, just a male me. That's why I say I would never write about scratching my balls, because *I* never would, just like I don't tell everyone how often I scratch around in the bushes, ya dig? And THANK YOU for taking the time to read this and leave a comment. It is much appreciated.

  5. I need more coffee, I had to read the bushes part twice to realize what you were talking about bahahaha

  6. this was bloody brilliant ... great job!!