"Who made you king of Shit Island?"I just said this to my child, which should solidify my ranking as Mother of the Year. Or at least the month.
When the little bastard announced he was full, after being in bed for 9 hours, I snapped and made him drink an entire glass of chocolate milk laced with protein powder. Not since the creamed corn fiasco of 1999 have I seen such dramatic gag reflexes in action. For a second, I thought he was going to blow, which really would have pissed me off.
He's late for school, but at least he knows who's boss.
While it may not seem like it at times, I love my child more than life, and confess to getting all weepy (mid-cycle) when I heard the Forum hockey crowd gave Mike Danton a standing ovation last night. Good for you, Havenot. That's somebody's kid out there.
As a mother, and a hockey mother, I just want to hug this Danton guy. Hey, he's hot, so it's a bit pervy, but my motherly instincts meld with my cougar instincts and I want to, well, I was going to say lick him, but I meant, mother him.
My gut tells me Mike Danton chose the wrong person to watch his back. That's my new line, "watch your back", borrowed from Sandra Bullock in The Blind Side. I sat and wept through that movie last week, (without popcorn, which is really why I was crying, thank you very much for this willpower, U Weight.) If you haven't seen The Blind Side, it's a true story about NFL offensive tackle Michael Oher – and it's a heart-warming, heartbreaker about the importance of watching out for others. Grab your little bastards and go.
I didn't have anyone to watch my back growing up, and it wasn't until yesterday, when I experienced the kindness of strangers that I realized sometimes it's a place, and not a person, watching out for you.
My little dog, Dottie has been spooked by all dogs since she was attacked a few weeks ago. Yesterday, a peaceful walk in Long Lake turned into a nightmare when a barking, approaching dog caused her to bolt. Usian Bolt. My ten-pound poodle mix bolted out of the Lost Lake woods, through the parking lot, across the Bay Road and into the Prospect Road intersection, where I arrived breathless and frantic only to be told she went "thataway!". Before I could even see her, she apparently headed toward the on and then off ramps of the Bicentennial highway, through heavy morning traffic all the way to deep into Bayer's Lake Industrial park. For those of you who don't speak Havenot, that's fucking scary.
Now, picture my fat ass running and/or driving after her like my Toyota's gas pedal was stuck. Who knew I could run that far, that fast, and in a state of hysteria that must have given a few commuters a good chuckle. The few that is, who didn't stop. Along Dottie's escape route, truck drivers, commuters, pickup trucks and small cars pulled over, jumped out of cars, risked their lives stopping traffic, gestured to where she was headed, chased through ditches and stayed with me until I eventually found her, deep on a cul-de-sac, frightened but alive.
I didn't know if I should hug her, or beat her to death.
The people watching my back yesterday were total strangers, and if I could hug them I would. Susan Andrews from Tantallon was the only name I got because she stayed with me until I had Dottie in my arms. Thank you again, Susan. The other kind people just got in their cars, waved or gave a thumbs up, and drove away before I could thank them properly.
Tomorrow, I am heading to the Victoria General Hospital's Farmer's Market, where I will load up on healthy crap I can ram down the little bastard's throat. I watch his back, and it looks like he's been at Auschwitz for a few years. Much like their successful summer market, the VG Winter Market will have local, organic produce, gluten-free products, Blossom Shop flowers, fresh-roasted coffee and everything you'll need to make your child gag before school.
Mike Danton likely didn't know most of the people cheering him on last night, but I hope he as felt loved and watched over as I did yesterday.
We've got your back, Mike. And what a lovely back it is.
halifaxbroad@gmail.com
