Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Unsolicited Advice: Mommy’s Little Helper Helps Me, Too

It happened so suddenly. One minute I’m surfing the net, and the next the boy has planted a terribly sexy kiss on me while asking, “Can you make dinner, baby? I’m in the middle of stuff.”

Ugh. It’s 7:30pm, I’m tired from a rather long day, and I have important stuff to do, too! Like… reruns of Golden Girls (sniff… RIP Estelle Getty) and… um… deep political analysis. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Deep political analysis.

I’m trapped. He asked so nicely. And he befuddled my brain with sweet, sincere kissing and words of love. Damn him!

I turn to the only thing that gets me through housework. I can’t imagine why I didn’t discover it years ago. Is it meditation? Fun iPod music? No, friends. It’s liquor. Better known as Mommy’s Little Helper.

Scrubbing toilets, doing laundry, Swiffer-ing, cleaning the litter box, getting up in the morning – these are horrid chores which no sane person would enjoy. Booze injects a lovely haze of pseudo-fun on the activities.

In June of last year, Tulsa, Oklahoma unearthed a car they had buried in 1957 as a time capsule of sorts. From MSNBC:

“The contents of a “typical” woman’s handbag, including 14 bobby pins, lipstick and a bottle of tranquilizers, were supposed to be in the glove box [of the car], but all that was found looked like a lump of rotted leather.”

1957 Female Checklist:
14 Bobby Pins
Bottle of Tranquilizers

June Cleaver was high, bitches. There is no other explanation. Not even in the 50s was housework fun, no matter how many times the Home Ec. teacher tried to convince you it was. I would use tranquilizers, as a tribute to my sisters of yesteryear, only I must be the only person in LA who doesn’t have one of those doctors who prescribes Vicodin for a toe stubbing.

So our Brutally Honest advice for today, my lovelies, is to have a wee cocktail before vacuuming or cleaning cat vomit or doing your taxes. You’re allowed to – it’s one of the wonderful things about being an adult. I raise my glass to you! Or I would if it weren’t already empty.


PS: If any of my LA friends know one of those pill-happy doctors – you know where to find me. There’s a bottle of Boone’s in it for you.

1 comment:

ForgetfulBitch said...

My sister lives in LA. I'm on it.
I, on the other hand, am in NC where you can only get tranqs if you are military.

The only difference in our methods is the name. Mine: Faiths Friend.

Im not a mommy.