Tuesday, March 15, 2011

The Despondent




On Saturday afternoon Chup and our neighbor Cory decided it was a fine day for chopping down wild branches and unhealthy shrubbery. They worked on either side of the fence from each other until a huge pile of sticks and dried leaves amassed in Cory expansive backyard. Then they suggested we have a bonfire to burn down the pile and roast some hot dogs.

I felt terrible on Saturday. My energy sucked out of me like leaky balloon. I headed over to the lunch party with Ever in my arms and a sense of dead in my soul. I found a white plastic chair within site of the fire, but not so close that the smoke would enter my nostrils.

Ever isn't the sit-still type of baby I thought she'd be. If held, she squirms like a fish on a hook. I usually let her out of bondage because I am not the type of sit-still mom I thought I'd be either. So Ever rolled around in the mud and sand and wet grass around me (never close to the actual fire, mind you) while I sat in that chair and contemplated eating a hot dog. That sort of consumption is always worth the pre-meditated should I or should I not?

The Chief was adding fuel to the fire, throwing in skinny sticks and keeping his distance. Chup was nearby with his camera--his seventy-two pound camera of Never Miss A Family Function. The other kids were hunting down the perfect roasting stick as Cory managed the fire and smoke.

In my dreary state I checked out for a minute. I don't know where I went, maybe it was a yellow-walled beach house in Mexico, but in the minutes of my mental departure The Chief found Ever and started his usual routine of annoyance. (He likes to spank her. Why? Why?) When I came back to reality, Ever was on her stomach bearing the repeated taps of The Chief's physical attention. Then she started wailing. At that point I thought earnestly about getting up and stopping the whole ordeal, but my will wouldn't move.

Suddenly Chup was on the scene with his massive camera in one hand and a perfectly whittled spear in the other. Without his arms for proper balance, he tripped and down he went gathering Ever in his arms as he fell. He looked like a Zulu hero warrior, legs folded beneath him. The Chief thought it was brilliant and added to the excitement by jumping on Chup's back like a primate. It was a scene:

Chup on his rear, holding a spear, a camera and a screaming baby. His head folded down in his chest trying to endure the repeated tackle attempts from his excited son.

For my part, I did nothing.

The idea that I could help my husband at that moment didn't even register into the deadish gray matter in my brain. I just sat there thinking, "Wow, Chup really got himself into a predicament there."

Chup looked over a me. I looked over at him.

"Help?" he asked.

Oh right, I sluggishly left the comfort of my chair and retrieved both Ever and the camera. Instantly, Ever started wiggling out of my arms. I let her go and kept the camera only leaving my chair for a few seconds. I even took a few pictures, why not:



For the record, I am not always this lazy, just when I grow other humans inside of my body. I am several pounds of useless flesh, a class act in despondency, a No Good. For now, there isn't a large difference in behavior between me and a snail, including the trail of silvery sluggishness. I should be put in a container for the next nine months to pickle in pregnancy. Forget about me, move on.

For the other record, at that very bonfire I had a Nutella, peanut butter s'more which was so delicious even my apathy couldn't pass it off. Why, it may have been the best thing I've ever taken to my mouth.

It was even better because someone made it for me as I resumed sitting in that chair.

There are perks.





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