What Happens When You Leave Your Work Computer Unattended At My House
Watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey last night, I realized if it wasn’t for all the drama; sociopathic Danielle antics, table flipping, old lady pole dancing, and women gossiping in their overly ornate McMansions, there would be no reason to tune in. I must admit that the ladies of NJ do have flavor. My girlfriends and I have had many colorful conversation over a few glasses of wine but never used the term “bubbies” or talked about pregnancy causing a “puffy chucky”.
I am a “real” real housewife, meaning I can’t afford not to have a job outside the house – which by the way, is no McMansion. It seems doubtful that millions of viewers would be riveted to the footage of my daily life. It’s pretty dull by comparison.
Although my drama may not be camera worthy, it’s mine all the same and sometimes feels overwhelming. I have three boys, ages 16, 17, and 22, who happen to be off from school and home for the summer. Because of this, going to work has become the high point of my day. At 5:00pm I return home to all of the joys of marriage and family. Walking in the door, I am sure to find every television on with game systems attached. Dirty socks are shoved in everything from couch cushions to the dog’s collar. I also know to expect piles of wet towels on the bathroom floors and the whole days worth of dishes piled in the sink and on the counter tops. Oh, and let’s not forget the various pungent boy smells lingering in the air.
My first instinct is to get in my car, check my credit card balance, and drive to the airport. By some miracle, I manage to keep my feet planted firmly to the floor. After I remind myself to breath, its time to round up the animals for their daily lecture (delivered in a slightly hysterical tone) and job list. They are good kids and even though they think my outrage must be caused by a bad case of PMS or obsessive-compulsive disorder, they do clean up. How can they not see it… or smell it?
My husband and I are big believers in family dinners . They seem to start out well enough. We eat, we chat, but inevitably the conversations seem to gravitate to the latest South Park episode (complete with Cartman impersonations) and heated debates about whose farts smell the worst. I consider myself lucky if they don’t start the comparisons right there at the table. When I shoot a pleading look at my husband for a little back up, I realize he’s laughing with them.
Let me mention again that I have a husband and three sons. Not a female in the bunch, meaning I’m completely out numbered. There isn’t a soul in the house who will notice I’m wearing new blouse or to compliment me on my cute shoes. I know there will be people that would like to shame me for that statement by telling me how shallow I sound and how fortunate I am to have a family. All I can say to that is, “You live with them for a week”. This real housewife needs a break.
So it is time for the much-needed annual ladies weekend. Three glorious days devoted to all things girly. There will be no talk of video games, firearms, or Kung fu movies. I’m also fairly certain there will be no table flipping or yanking of hair extensions.
The goal is to have fun in the sun, do a little shopping, and enjoy some “girl talk” with an all female cast. It may not be Bravo worthy, but it sounds like nirvana to me.
I wonder what the house will look like when I get home.