The phone rings, and Kallan picks it up, “Hello? What? OK. Yeah, I’ll tell her.”
I wait until Kallan hangs up the phone, “Was that Daddy?”
“Yup. He said to tell you that he won’t be home for dinner. He said to tell you . . .” She squints her eyes and looks up at the ceiling as though she wants to remember the words exactly, “He said to tell you he won’t be home for dinner and that he will see you tomorrow because he has a sleepover with a work lady.”
I stare at Kallan, “Daddy told you he has a sleepover with a work lady?”
“Yup.”
“Huh. Well, then I guess I shouldn’t have made so much spaghetti.”
Kallan giggles, “Seriously? That’s your concern? Leftovers?”
I grab some napkins and head to the table, “Daddy and I have been together for a long time. He says he’s having a sleepover with a work lady, then I just have to hope it’s no one he’s trying to impress.”
Kallan stops mid-dance move, “Wait . . .what?”
I walk back to the refrigerator and collect the salad dressing and the Parmesan cheese, “He’ll just keep doing it forever until someone stops him.”
“Wait . . . what?”
I start pouring milk, “That poor work lady. She’s not going to get any sleep at all.”
“Wait . . . what are you talking about, Mom?”
I replace the top on the jug of milk, “Have you heard your daddy snore? He is not the ideal sleepover guest. That poor woman.”
Kallan snorts with laughter, “What if Daddy really had said that he was going on a sleepover, Mom?”
“Seriously, Kallan . . . that poor woman. I’m used to Daddy, but she is doomed.”
Kallan sighs, “So pretty much you trust Daddy?”
“Pretty much, babe.” I sit down and serve myself some spaghetti as Maj joins us at the table.
Maj is curious, “Pretty much what?”
Kallan answers for me, “Pretty much Daddy can do sleepovers with work ladies named Belinda whenever he wants, because Mom trusts him.”
I laugh, “Her name is Belinda?”
Maj looks at me, “I don’t know who this Belinda woman is, but if Daddy is going to be sleeping at her house, he is going to need massive sanitizing before he steps back into my life.”
I butter a roll, “If he’s going to be doing a lot of sleepovers, maybe we can set up some sort of sanitizer spray-shower outside the front door.”
Maj smiles, “I would be totally in support of such a shower.”
Kallan giggles happily, “That would be awesome!”
Maj grows more earnest, “Seriously, Mother. We should talk about this spray-shower of sanitizer. Now that Daddy is working at a hospital, it is only proper that we take precautions against his germiness. Not like he would have to be naked out in front of everyone . . . we could hang up a curtain.”
Kallan chokes on her milk and I stare at Maj for a minute, trying to gauge the proper response. I finally just go with, “Don’t be silly, Maj,” and we move along to other topics.
Later in the evening, Mark (who it turns out did not actually have a sleepover with a work lady planned) is called upstairs to attend to a Maj-emergency that sounds like this . . .
The drain in the bathtub is leaking and the water is slowly escaping and YES, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY, PEOPLE. Someone needs to get up here and address this situation immediately because even though I have now gotten out of the bathtub THIS SITUATION DEMANDS ATTENTION because I cannot be expected to take another bath ever again if I am going to be forced to endure this sort of liquid harassment when I am trying to RELAX AND CLEANSE because I can HEAR THE WATER LEAVING AND I CAN FEEL THE WATER LOWERING AND THIS IS SO NOT ACCEPTABLE I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO FIND WORDS TO DESCRIBE THE UNACCEPTABILITY, but know that it is wrong, people . . . KNOW THAT IT IS WRONG . . . DADDY Where’s Daddy? I NEED DADDY WHERE IS THAT MAN TELL HIM I NEED HIM NOW AND YES I AM AWARE I AM STANDING NAKED IN THE HALLWAY ON THE CARPET DRIPPING WATER EVERYWHERE THIS IS AN EMERGENCY THERE WAS NO TIME FOR TOWELING ARE YOU KIDDING ME, MOTHER? HOW IS NAKED THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE WHEN THE TUB IS LEAKING? YOU ARE INSANE, THAT’S WHAT YOU ARE. PRIORITIES, MOTHER. LOOK IT UP. WHERE’S DADDY? I NEED DADDY TO WITNESS THE WATERY MISBEHAVIOR SO HE KNOWS HOW TO FIX IT. DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!
Mark heads upstairs with a screwdriver to tighten the drain mechanism.
While he’s upstairs, I guess he figures he will tighten whatever else needs tightening, and so he wanders through the girls’ rooms, checking door hinges and dresser-drawer pulls and light-switch cover-plates. I am downstairs and unaware of this activity until Kallan yells down, her voice all annoyed, “Mommy, control your man! He is upstairs screwing everything he can find!”
Maj looks up at me from where she has settled on the couch and says, her voice calm and sensible, “Well, well, well . . . I bet that outdoor spray-shower of sanitizer is looking a little less ridiculous right about now.”
Snort!
