I tried to tender my resignation.

i asked a friend this weekend "why do i feel so burned out by midday on the weekends?"

the answer to that question is "because you have twin toddlers."

after watching my girls zip from one corner and then zoom to the other, i am convinced that that inspiration for the Gremlins' Christmas Party had to have come from the energy and attention span of your average 20 month old.



and so, after many hours of chasing, saying no, and stop, and get down, and that's not a toy....and gritting my teeth as i watch a child purposefully suck milk into her mouth for the sole purpose of letting it dribble down her shirt and legs to the floor....by Sunday afternoon, i'd had enough. so, i decided to quit. i found a scratch of paper that used my be a piece of mail and hastily scribbled out my goodbyes.

"you people with the eyelashes: i quit this bitch!"

as my last act as their mother, i fixed trixie and dixie lunch. then i took a shower, got dressed, and left.

i took myself to lunch and at without anyone trying to snatch my food away from me.

and then i sat outside with a glass of wine. and i slouched. and i put my feet up.

and at no time did i have to tell anyone no, stop, get down, or that's not toy.

it was marvelous.

i sat there and i thought about how carefree my life used to be and how on the weekends, i could sleep as long as i wanted, go wherever i chose, and....waste an inordinate amount of time and money trying not to feel so lonely and sad .

and then, after a few hours, the warden called and informed me that i didn't actually quit: i was just on furlough. my services in the Prison Kitchen were needed.

something or another about "dinner."

i grudgingly went back home but after getting there and being greeted my hugs and kisses, i couldn't remember why i'd wanted to get away so badly.