A Much Earned Day Off
Ever have one of these kinds of days? Sometimes the things we long for, crave or dream about aren't as good as what we already have. Then again, maybe its good they disappoint because they make us appreciate the routine we otherwise groan about...
A DAY OFF
Energized by the day ahead of her, Jane set a breakfast-of-champions on the table before her husband, Bob.
“Hmmm, you should book a day off more often,” Bob mumbled around his poached egg and bacon. “Whatcha’ got planned?”
Handing him a napkin for the glob of yolky-ketchup hanging on his moustache, Jane just smiled.
Fifteen minutes later, coffee in hand, she was starting her day as she liked – slowly. Then the piercing ring of the cordless interrupted Jane’s thoughts. Going against better judgment, she ran to find it.
Nine-year-old, Sara, passed her on the way to the bathroom. “Morning, Mom.”
Three rings later… “Hello?”
“Hey, honey, I’m heading into a very important meeting and just realized I forgot my laptop. Think you could drop it off?” Bob asked.
The sound of running water could be heard from the hallway as seven-year-old Jimmy, now stood at the closed door. Hopping from one foot to the next, his grimace told the story.
Jane knocked, then yelled through the door. “Sara, Jimmy needs to use the bathroom.”
“Honey, is everything okay?” Bob called through the phone.
Jane took a deep breath. “We're fine Bob. Yeh, I can do that for you.”
“Thanks, Babe, can’t talk; gotta run.”
While Jane was dressing, she heard Sara banging on the bathroom door over the sound of the still-running water. About to suggest a more polite approach, Jane felt her socks getting wet. As they both looked down, the water flowed around their feet and into the hall.
“Jimmy, open the door...NOW!”
Jane turned as her son called from the kitchen, a slice of bread in hand, licking peanut butter off a knife. “I’m here, Mom, making my lunch. Whatcha' need?”
“Aahhhh.” Using a nail for the locked door, Jane got inside, shut the water off, and pulled the plug in the sink.
Sara scooped up a sopping, disgruntled cat, the sole occupant of the now-flooded bathroom. With a shrug of embarrassment, she explained, “Smokey was thirsty, Mom.”
Leaving to find dry socks, Jane was met by Bart, the golden retriever, happily crunching on kitty litter. Wanting to share his treasures, Bart pressed his nose into Jane’s thigh leaving a blotch of softened pebbles, saliva, and little bits of “best-not-to-ask” on her new jeans.
An hour later Jane was in her car, working her way back to peace and quiet. The bathroom fiasco behind her, children at school, she cranked the volume of the stereo playing her favorite CD. At the chorus, the car sputtered and stalled. Coasting to the side of the country road, Jane grabbed her purse and began the ten-minute walk to the nearest gas station, the Honda’s hazard lights announcing the unplanned stop to everyone passing by.
Across the street from the Husky, Jane waited impatiently for the light to turn green. As she stepped out into the crosswalk, a delivery truck rumbled to a stop beside her, waiting to turn right. Too late for Jane to move out of the way, the truck’s front right tire rolled perfectly into a water-filled pothole, forcing its contents out of the hole and down the back of Jane’s white, cotton pants.
Without the cash deposit for the jerrycan, she went straight to the bank machine. Conscious of the soiled state of her backside, she stood sideways. After three tries at remembering her password, the machine invited her to contact her local bank, keeping her card.
A familiar voice behind her asked, “Jane? Is that you?”
Once over the initial embarrassment of having her boss see the mess she was in, Jane was actually thankful for their chance meeting. He paid for the filled jerrycan and took her back to the car.
By the time Jane got to Bob’s office, her pants were dried and crusty. Attempting to remain incognito, she never noticed the trail of dirt dropping in mini-clumps as she darted in and out a side door leaving the laptop where he would find it.
Back at home, the phone rang as the mantle clock chimed one.
“Mrs. Willsome? We thought you’d like to know …”
This can’t be good …
“Jimmy had to spend his lunch hour in The Success Room. During Science he carried another student’s desk into the boys’ bathroom. We understand that Lisa had been teasing him, but Jimmy’s reaction broke the Code of Conduct ...”
That night as Jane readied for bed, she smiled at the excitement she felt over going to the office the next day.
Bob came out of the bathroom, a silly grin on his face. “Bet you’re wishing you had another day off.”
Jane feigned a scowl and muttered, “Funny, Bob, real funny.”
©bonniederksen2008
A DAY OFF
Energized by the day ahead of her, Jane set a breakfast-of-champions on the table before her husband, Bob.
“Hmmm, you should book a day off more often,” Bob mumbled around his poached egg and bacon. “Whatcha’ got planned?”
Handing him a napkin for the glob of yolky-ketchup hanging on his moustache, Jane just smiled.
Fifteen minutes later, coffee in hand, she was starting her day as she liked – slowly. Then the piercing ring of the cordless interrupted Jane’s thoughts. Going against better judgment, she ran to find it.
Nine-year-old, Sara, passed her on the way to the bathroom. “Morning, Mom.”
Three rings later… “Hello?”
“Hey, honey, I’m heading into a very important meeting and just realized I forgot my laptop. Think you could drop it off?” Bob asked.
The sound of running water could be heard from the hallway as seven-year-old Jimmy, now stood at the closed door. Hopping from one foot to the next, his grimace told the story.
Jane knocked, then yelled through the door. “Sara, Jimmy needs to use the bathroom.”
“Honey, is everything okay?” Bob called through the phone.
Jane took a deep breath. “We're fine Bob. Yeh, I can do that for you.”
“Thanks, Babe, can’t talk; gotta run.”
While Jane was dressing, she heard Sara banging on the bathroom door over the sound of the still-running water. About to suggest a more polite approach, Jane felt her socks getting wet. As they both looked down, the water flowed around their feet and into the hall.
“Jimmy, open the door...NOW!”
Jane turned as her son called from the kitchen, a slice of bread in hand, licking peanut butter off a knife. “I’m here, Mom, making my lunch. Whatcha' need?”
“Aahhhh.” Using a nail for the locked door, Jane got inside, shut the water off, and pulled the plug in the sink.
Sara scooped up a sopping, disgruntled cat, the sole occupant of the now-flooded bathroom. With a shrug of embarrassment, she explained, “Smokey was thirsty, Mom.”
Leaving to find dry socks, Jane was met by Bart, the golden retriever, happily crunching on kitty litter. Wanting to share his treasures, Bart pressed his nose into Jane’s thigh leaving a blotch of softened pebbles, saliva, and little bits of “best-not-to-ask” on her new jeans.
An hour later Jane was in her car, working her way back to peace and quiet. The bathroom fiasco behind her, children at school, she cranked the volume of the stereo playing her favorite CD. At the chorus, the car sputtered and stalled. Coasting to the side of the country road, Jane grabbed her purse and began the ten-minute walk to the nearest gas station, the Honda’s hazard lights announcing the unplanned stop to everyone passing by.
Across the street from the Husky, Jane waited impatiently for the light to turn green. As she stepped out into the crosswalk, a delivery truck rumbled to a stop beside her, waiting to turn right. Too late for Jane to move out of the way, the truck’s front right tire rolled perfectly into a water-filled pothole, forcing its contents out of the hole and down the back of Jane’s white, cotton pants.
Without the cash deposit for the jerrycan, she went straight to the bank machine. Conscious of the soiled state of her backside, she stood sideways. After three tries at remembering her password, the machine invited her to contact her local bank, keeping her card.
A familiar voice behind her asked, “Jane? Is that you?”
Once over the initial embarrassment of having her boss see the mess she was in, Jane was actually thankful for their chance meeting. He paid for the filled jerrycan and took her back to the car.
By the time Jane got to Bob’s office, her pants were dried and crusty. Attempting to remain incognito, she never noticed the trail of dirt dropping in mini-clumps as she darted in and out a side door leaving the laptop where he would find it.
Back at home, the phone rang as the mantle clock chimed one.
“Mrs. Willsome? We thought you’d like to know …”
This can’t be good …
“Jimmy had to spend his lunch hour in The Success Room. During Science he carried another student’s desk into the boys’ bathroom. We understand that Lisa had been teasing him, but Jimmy’s reaction broke the Code of Conduct ...”
That night as Jane readied for bed, she smiled at the excitement she felt over going to the office the next day.
Bob came out of the bathroom, a silly grin on his face. “Bet you’re wishing you had another day off.”
Jane feigned a scowl and muttered, “Funny, Bob, real funny.”
©bonniederksen2008
posted by Bonnie Derksen @ 4:51 PM
2 Comments:
At October 22, 2009 at 5:55 PM ,
Curt said...
Jo you are a riot!
I really enjoyed reading that one, I felt like I was at home and I love that it was based on true events.
At October 30, 2009 at 9:33 AM ,
Linda said...
Wow - how to capture a day in the life of a busy mom. I think we all feel this way more often then we would like. Great story Bon! I'm waiting for a much earned day off that looks a little different than that one.
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