A few months back, I instituted a little morning game that has revolutionized our routine: I hide the TV remote. Every morning when I get my sorry, sad butt outta bed (after slapping the snooze button a dozen times!), I go into the living room, turn on the TV, blare music, then hide the remote control. As soon as The Daughters are completely ready to walk out the door, including wearing shoes, socks and panties, they get to start hunting for the remote. Whoever finds it first, gets control of the TV for the next half hour before we leave the house.
Most mornings, it's the only way Daughter 2 will get any clothes on! And then, she's in such a rush to get to the remote that she throws on any old clothing she can find! Then, she completely torments her sister by hovering the selector over Dora The Explorer until Daughter 1 just about has a stroke trying to explain that it's a baby show. Finally, Daughter 2 will select Full House or Family Matters and all will be right with the world once again.
Earlier this week, because of a before-school meeting, The Daughters and I needed to leave the house about 30 minutes before we normally do. I know that many of you are thinking Big Deal - Half an hour. Well, it IS a big deal! I don't do mornings. At all!
And on this particular morning, I had a really, really hard time waking up. But, I did it anyway, mainly because I like my job and I like having a paycheck. I stumbled to the living room and cranked up the music and then hid the remote.
The Daughters slowly got themselves ready and began looking for the remote. We scarfed down breakfast and it was time to go. We still hadn't found the remote. They begged me to tell them where it was and I said they'd have to find it; it was against the rules for me to help them. Daughter 1 argued that I made up the rules, I could do whatever I wanted. I pulled her hair extra tight when fixing it. Then I sang along with Jason Aldeen, asking if he'd like to stay just for a little while.
The Dad beat us home that evening and was sitting in a quiet house. I mentioned that I expected him to have on ESPN since he was home alone and he mentioned back, "You'd think! Where's the remote?" And I laughed. What a funny guy... still playing my little game 10 hours later!
I commenced the making of the dinner - which is to say that I microwaved the chicken patties - and The Daughters commenced to arguing over who got to to pick the TV show. (As a side note, they will always pick the same show; but, it's extremely important to them to get to be THE ONE who picks it!) Since I was cooking dinner and still singing with Jason Aldeen, The Dad stepped in and said HE would pick the show and HE would be in charge of the remote. I know - the sacrifices that man makes for his family, huh?
Then he said, "Where's the remote?"
Then The Daughters shrugged their shoulders.
Then The Dad said, "Where'd you leave it this morning?"
The The Daughters said, "We didn't find it this morning."
Then all three of the descended on me like locust on a forsaken land and demanded to know where I had hidden the remote. I snorted and stirred the frozen macaroni and cheese vigorously to show that I was in the middle of very important culinary stuff. "I'm sure it's where I always hide it."
All three of them raced from the kitchen into the living room; The Dad was mumbling something about it not being fair since he wasn't here in the mornings, and he had no idea where I always hid it.
The truth? It was an extra early morning. I don't do mornings. I couldn't remember - honestly - where I had hidden the remote. And that's the truth. Honestly.
Quickly, The Daughters reported back that they'd searched all my usual places with no luck. The Dad, took all the cushions from the couches and found plenty of stuff (which he left right where he found it) but not the remote. I sprinkled some shredded cheese on top of the frozen macaroni to make it look like I was doing anything related to culinary activities and racked my brain as to where I could have hidden the remote!
After a re-searching of the living room, the locusts descended again, demanding me to put down the paprika and help them. In order to avoid waterboarding, I admitted that I had no clue where I had hidden the remote.
With my normally helpful tenure, though, I reminded them that they could turn the TV on right there ON the TV and change the channels by moving the arrows up and down on the channel box. They snorted at my idea. I suggested that they could instead read a book. They wrinkled their noses. I suggested that they go outside and play. They rolled their beady little eyes. I suggested that they help me with dinner - those bags of salad will not tear themselves open, people! They huffed and puffed their way right out of the kitchen and plopped themselves down on the uncushioned couches.
"Really?" I asked, stepping away from the crackers I was crumbling on top of the macaroni, "Really? No one is going to step up and help me with dinner?" They sat there with their little eyebrows furrowed. "No one wants dinner to be served a little quicker?" They didn't even bat an eye. "No one wants to ever see me again in that little red, lacy nighty thing?" And The Dad got up to help, but it would come with a price, of course!
"C'mon, honey," He pleaded as he reached into the cabinet to get our water glasses out. "Just tell me where it is."
I looked him square in the eye and repeated that I didn't even have the faintest of clues as to where I had put it. It was early. I was tired. I was rushed. No clue. Nada. Zilch.
He stared me down, thinking I would crack... which I did because this was flippin' funny! I couldn't have planned this if I had tried! The whole family was at a stand-still because the remote was MIA. Anyone else see the humor in that?
As I giggled uncontrollably, The Dad applied pressure, "I won't make the drinks if you don't tell me."
I laughed hysterically, "I. Do. Not. Know. Where. It. Is. Plus, I can make my own drink. That's not a threat to me."
Knowing he'd been beat, The Dad opened the freezer to fill the glasses and discovered...
... A very frozen remote!
That night I ate by myself at the dining room table as the family watched reruns of Full House and talked about how that family survived without a momma...
They wish!
