Okay, am I nuts or what? You go through all of this for just one last chance?
They emerge from their mother, a bundle of joy who will have you lugging home bundles of Pampers, wipes, and cases of formula, and waking up at 3 am (or faking you’re asleep), for a few years. Not to mention keeping the national economy going by keeping your wallet empty.
And you tell yourself, one day, oh one day, I won’t have to do this anymore.
Then comes the dreaded toilet training, with the cries of “No, no! You just want to drown me! Mommy! Mommy, You’d better get in here quick because Daddy’s wants me to drown me in the toilet bowl!!” Then, once they discover the joy of sitting, reading, and pondering life, you suffer through the dreaded, ” I’ve got to go and she’s not giving up the seat!” times. And the lady at the supermarket laughs and says, “How many rolls of toilet paper this week, sweetie?”
And you tell yourself, “One day I shall regain the throne!”
Then you learn you have to lock the bathroom door when taking a shower when she comes in and rips the curtain back while you’re showering, just to see what you’re doing in there.
My downstairs neighbor still laughs about how I ” … screamed like a girl,” that night.
I mean, I thought she was asleep. She was supposed to be asleep.
That’s okay, you think, for one day I won’t have to lock the bathroom door, or wear a suit of armor while I’m relaxing at home.
Then comes the first day of “Big School”, a.k.a. kindergarten, and then Middle School. Before you know it, it’s on to high school, and the AP’s, PSAT’s and SAT’s and ACT’s and college applications. Then, one day in late March, they find out who accepted them (thankfully, the one she wanted the most said yes). And on a glorious day in June, you sit back at a long-anticipated high school commencement, hearing her name and watching her cross the dais as she collects her diploma.
And you say to yourself, “In just three months I will be dropping her off to college, and I get the apartment, the throne, the TV, everything, back! Ha ha! Mine, mine, mine!”
The day arrives when you take her to college. You tote luggage up three (3) flights of stairs (no elevator). You meet the roommates she’ll be seeing more than you for the next four (4) years, and attend meeting after meeting until, some Dean says, “Okay parents, you have 15 minutes to say goodbye to your kids. The rest of this meeting is just for them. Go home now.”
And one guy in the audience says, “I’m not going anywhere without my child,” and you realize everyone is looking at you.
I guess I did say it.
Dean was lucky I believe in a God that forgives.
So, you leave the campus (accompanied by the campus police, just because you tried to kidnap your own child and bring her back home with you), doing 90 on I-95, hoping you’ll be pulled over, so you can tell the State Trooper we have to go back to the college, because they kidnapped my child.
Yes, itt actually happened. I will never the forget the look on the campus police officer as he said, “Release the Yalie, sir. Time for you to go home.”
He’d better be glad I believe in a forgiving God.
But it didn’t work. You make great time getting home though. Back to having the throne room to yourself. Not having to lock the bathroom door. Watching whatever you want to watch. Walk around the apartment any way you want to.
You shed a tear, wishing you had just one last chance to change a diaper, or stumble out of bed for the 3 am feeding and review of world events.
Just one.
And you count the days until she comes home for Thanksgiving Break, because it’s no fun having it all to yourself.
