Didn't get a lot of sleep last night, therefore work sucked today. The kitchen guys screwed up two of my orders. I still have trouble getting things right so at least don't screw up even more for me.
I don't know what I was thinking going back to school, working and trying to parent a child all by myself. The manager asked me today if I could do a double tomorrow, "stay til 9 o'clock or so." No. I cannot be at work for 11 hours and then go home and try to be a nice mommy. Sorry. Not happening. I'm sure Michael Phelps mom could do it. She's a better woman than I.
I did learn today that two of the cooks live in the house I lived in when I was a kid. One of them sleeps in my old room. They said I could stop by and bring my daughter. It would be interesting to see if it is exactly as I remember it. I was four, five and six years old. I still remember the kitchen, the bathroom upstairs, all the bedrooms. I remember going there to sign the lease with my mom. I remember my cousin standing at my dresser looking into a mirror and pushing on the arches of her eyebrows willing them to perfection. I remember waking up the next morning under my bed, having fallen out during the night and somehow missing the cot that my other cousin was sleeping on nearby. I remember my birthday party and having tacos and all the fixings in a separate bowl. Getting my Andy Gibb record. I can picture my mom slipping down the back stairs and my dad showing up minutes later with pineapple shakes. I remember asking my mom to pull my tooth while she was ironing. I braided my uncle's hair. I sat on the front swing and memorized the entire kindergarten play I was in, not just my part but everyone else's as well. My aunt taught me the words to Witchy Woman on that swing. I had a bunny named Christmas and a rocking horse in the basement. I remember a dream I had there; the first dream I thought had really happened when I woke up the next morning.
One of the kitchen guys said, "You and your daughter can spend the night in your old room if you want."
I said, "How about you guys babysit and I go out?"
He said, "That's cool, too." And as I exited the kitchen I heard him say, "You still have to come back and get her."
I might take a friend with me. Just sayin'.
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2 comments:
you.crack.my.shat.UP.
Don't childhood homes seem haunted? I wouldn't know from experience, having never seen mine (all 18) after we moved away, but it seems like they would be!
Thanks for stopping by the Penguin!
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