Sunday, December 6, 2009

Chicken Clown

I needed a break from reality.  So I packed my crap (forgot a toothbrush and underwear).  I showed up at 10pm at my parent's door.

"Well hey, baby!" Dad said.  "You doin Ok?"

"Yeah! I'm great!  Mind if I spend the night?  What do you have to eat in this house?  I'm starving."

"Clearly you're not ok, Crys."  He hugged me.  I smiled. 

"I'm totally fine.  Just need a little break."

Mom pulled out tortillas, fresh salsa, beans, grilled chicken and peppers and a Diet Coke.  I ate until I thought I might hurl.  Then I had ice cream.  (I don't even like ice cream. It's cold and hard. I'm warm and soft. We don't mesh well.)  Something about being w my folks made feel completely at peace and ravenous.  I haven't eaten like that in a month. Or two.

I sat and watched my parents argue about a myriad of different things.  Par for the course. Felt like home.

I slept like a baby that night.

The next day I had big plans to go the mall and get a mani/pedi.  I went downstairs to discover my parents madly chopping food..  They had been enlisted to provide dinner for the church Christmas party.  Mom refused help from anyone. Instead she enlisted Daddy.  He looked trapped and miserable as he slowly sliced chicken breasts.  Mom was wild-eyed and frantic.

Here was my thought process:

'I want to go to the mall.  I don't want to chop some stupid chicken.  They got themselves into this mess.  Not my fault!  ... Yeah but they look crazed.  Don't be a selfish jerk!  You can't just LEAVE!  That's MEAN!  Grrrrrrr!  But the maaaallllllll is calling your name!  Crap. Sigh.'

I always do the right thing no matter how much it sucks.  It still counts even if I'm swearing in my brain.

"Alright dad.  Hand me a knife."  He looked like he might cry.

The party had begun!!!  I began to make up songs about chicken and peppers.  I was a wild chicken chopper.  I was FAST! BLAM! BLAM! THANK YOU MA'AM! NEXT!  I rapped and talked to the food.

"You goin DOWWWNNN chicken CLOWN!"

I do a mean Snow White impression.  I can sound just like her.  It's almost scary.  She was my chicken chopping persona.

"Whistle while you work" and "I'm wishing... I'm wishing.. for the one I love...".  Then I'd look at dad and say, "Oh Dopey!"  Then I laughed hysterically.  I love to make my parents laugh.  I love to lift their spirits.  Lifting others lifts me.

"Ama!! Dame mas pollo!"  (Ma, give me more chicken.)

"Te vas a lastimar!"  (You're going to hurt yourself.)  She was concerned I might chop off a finger.  I have a lot of fingers so what's one more or less?  (It would be cool if I could grow an extra finger!  Like the 6 fingered man in The Princess Bride.  I'd have custom gloves made.  HOT!  I have a serious glove fetish.)

Then I sang "Mexico Lindo Y Querido, si muero lejos de tiiiiiiiiiiii...." with lots of expression and verbrato.  Being Mexican ROCKS 'cause then I'm all mysterious and sexy. And I can wear a red rose in my hair just 'cause.  Arriba!  Be jealous!

When it was all done daddy said, "Thank you SO much!  We never would have made it without you!"

The moral of the story is:
If your parents are chopping 50 lbs of chicken you should forego a manicure 'cause then you'll feel all warm and fuzzy like the Good Samaritan.  ( The Bible doesn't SAY he felt all warm and fuzzy but I'm sure he did.)

I was gone two days.  When I got home today my babies screamed, "Maaaamaaaaa!"  and charged me with hugs and sloppy kisses.

"You smell good, Mama! You always smell good."

"I wiped my bum with the shower curtain.  There was no toilet paper."

"Can I sit on your lap when you sit down?"

"What did you buy me?"

"If you didn't come home soon I was gonna cry."

My man embraced me roughly.  "I'm a lucky lucky man." (I'm lucky too.)

Hmmmmm.  Mama gets appreciated when she leaves.  I see more breaks in the near future! ( Now about that shower curtain...)

P.S.  I'm going to The Grand Canyon tomorrow to ride The Polar Express with the fam.  We get to meet SANTA!!!!!!!! *SCREAMS*  I can't wait! 

My little one turns five tomorrow!  I bought her a pair of red boots.  I'm grooming her for the future.  Boots. Boots. Boots.

I'll continue blogging upon my return. :)