Screw You Jetsons: Guest post by Momaical

Screw You Jetsons

By Tracy @ http://Momaical.com

 Being sick sucks.  Being sick while Mommying – that’s a whole new level of hideous slapped on a pile of illin’. Because on top of trying not to ruin yet another pair of pants to a bout of coughing – you have tiny people who want you to do super important things for them any time you take 37 seconds for yourself.  “Mommy!  I need you to sew this hole in this princess dress that I haven’t worn in so long that I forgot I own it! And I need you to do it NOW.”  All you want to do is lie in a pile of your own self-loathing and cough syrup and have everyone LEAVE YOU THE EFF ALONE!  But, no one does.  Except for the times that they DO.  And, that generally is even worse.  You sit through one peaceful episode of Hoarders and realize – Oh. Crap.  It’s too quiet.  You somehow claw your way out of the infirm and discover that the kids are running around the back yard trying to play parachute with the train of your wedding gown.  You want to convince yourself the scene is really a fever induced mirage – but it’s not.  And then they let the dog escape, leave the refrigerator open and have dipped into your hidden stash of Girl Scout cookies instead of eating “yunch” that you somehow scraped together.  Then your husband has to work late and comes home with a sniffle and retires to bed, leaving you in your fever stupor with a house full of assholes that you can’t get rid of because you gave birth to them.

Now, trade that out with a mystery illness.  It’s like that episode of Go Diego Go when they found the mystery fish.  She was lost and didn’t know how to get back to her kin so they had to follow the clues to discover she was a whale shark.  Except your clues are like a fucked up treasure hunt of body parts breaking down.  And, you don’t have time to go to the doctor’s because you still have those aforementioned kids that want peanut butter sandwiches without the crust but NOT ON THAT BREAD! YOU KNOW I HATE THAT BREAD!  And the others are wrestling around and breaking crap. And you’re bitter because it wasn’t supposed to be this way by the time we got to this point in our lives.  This was the FUTURE dammit.  And the future was supposed to have all this cool stuff in it.

If the Jetsons taught me anything, it was that we are going to have Rosie the Robot to take care of our houses, children, chores, etc.  The closest thing we have to that is a Roomba.  And, unless you enjoy munching on dust bunnies it does NOT do the job that Rosie would have done.  And there is supposed to be a machine that you put your kids through and they come out freshly pressed, fed and sparkling. None of which we have: no automatic dog walkers, no flying cars, no pills that turn into a four course meal.  Which is crap, Jetsons. Crap.

Since the future did not follow through as promised – I’m taking you back to a time when things were more selfish.  More delusional.  More narcissistic.  Clearly I’m talking about high school.  A time when you still believe that Orwell’s prediction about Big Brother was still possible. So, sit back, grab a cough drop and remember how something as silly as a sweater can be an obsession for you.

If I was to write a song – this would be it.  The Sweater Song by Meryn Cadell

Feel better soon Ms. Layne.  We love you! xoxoxox