A Day in the Life

This is from Commenter Breezeway's lovely Gwynn's Island cottage a few weeks back. After reading about a typical Chesapeake Bay Woman weekend, you'll understand why I return time and again to these tranquil scenes. They're very therapeutic.

For Mother's Day, Chesapeake Bay Daughter colored me an incredibly beautiful card, and Chesapeake Bay Son created a high-tech card using photos taken from his DSi-SomethingSomething and the computer.

Both cards warmed my heart, but Chesapeake Bay Son's struck a particular chord because it provides a tiny glimpse into the insanity daily trials and tribulations we deal with around here.

Below is the dissection of his card, where I share a statement he makes followed by my explanation of the event. Best of luck trying to keep up. If you're sleepy you may wish to lay your head down and take a brief nap. This whole thing will be over before you start begging for mercy know it.

For everyone else, here we go.

CB Son wrote:
Happy Mother's Day!

Let's hope that none of these daily events occur on Mother's Day!

(He shows a picture of our sleeping cat here.)

1. Sick cat makes you have to drive out of county while mother further frustrates you.

CBW explains:
On Thursday, our favorite cat became ill. CBW said, "Oh, he'll be OK." CB Son could see otherwise and went next door to get my mother, who promptly declared that the cat was going to die immediately if not yesterday if we didn't get him to a vet.

The only problem? All the vets were kicked back enjoying Dancing with the Stars closed for the night, but Dr. Skinner in Hartfield agreed to meet us in his Middlesex office about 15 minutes away. The drama, the frantic instructions, the sniping involved with contacting a non-Dancing-With-Stars-watching an after-hours vet who wasn't 3 states away, packing a very sick cat into a clothes basket, listening to him howl all the way there while trying to block out the sounds of my mother describing in painful detail how the cat was going to die (in front of howling cat, CB Daughter and CB Son, all of whom were blinking back tears, especially me the cat) was definitely frustrating, and this is but a brief version of the story.

The cat is recovering nicely; the verdict on my status has not been reached.

(Next he has a photo of CB Daughter pointing behind her to a blazing fire spanning 20 feet wide and Eiffel-Tower-feet high.)

CB Son then said:
2. Father rides around on 3-wheeled contraption and decides to start a very stressful fire that might burn down the yard. But it's okay, he used diesel to light it not gasoline.

CBW Explains:
Not too long ago, the Chesapeake Bay Children and I were enjoying a quiet moment on the back patio as the sun went down. Before you could say, "Smokey Bear might have something to say about this potential wildfire," the entire yard was up in flames as my father torched a burn pile. He explained that it was not dangerous due to the use of diesel fuel vs. gasoline. Evidently diesel fuel is safer than gasoline as an ignitor.

While this may well be true, the mere fact that my eyebrows were singed and I was a mile away there was discussion about which flammable substance was being used to stoke flames resembling the Great Chicago Fire really seemed irrelevant to the overall point which was this: THE ENTIRE BACK YARD IS ON FIRE.

(Then he shows a picture of a nasty slug or larvae-looking thing.)

He ends with this:

3. Mutant infestation of moths/ants taints the food supply and causes screaming that can be heard a mile away.

We hope that none of this happens on your day off, Mom!

Love, Chesapeake Bay Son

CBW Complains Explains:
If anyone has any doubt that on a daily--if not hourly--basis I scream due to an infestation of one sort of another, please believe Chesapeake Bay Son.

We have mutant infestations which taint the food supply.

We have drama.

Which causes screaming.

That can be heard.

Miles and miles away.

Every single day.

The Merciful End.