Tale Tues: Putty Robots and the Wilted Lily


So sue me. My Tale Tues is on a Thursday. Because at this point in sultry summer, this is me:

me2

Actually, supposedly a “robot” that Big Bro made first day of  robotics science camp. The place I stuck the boys, so I could recoup from our New Hampshire lakeside rental escapade which is never really a vacation, outside of playing house than keeping house, with mismatched cheap juice glasses and chipped plates. And keeping Gramma upright, and keeping the peace between two brothers whose favorite past-time is to fight over a canoe paddle.

So what. So what if I’m spending bucks on “robot” camp so they can come home with putty robots and this:

robot

In their defense, yes, it is a styrofoam cup, but it does light up when you place it over some flashlight flashing thing.

And these:

syringes

Do you see/read robot here? I see syringes and a porcupine/dinosaur. I didn’t ask.

But who cares. Because I get needed down-time home alone with only the dog. To face an incredibly dirty house, a broken faucet and today, a leaking air-conditioning system leaking through ceiling from  attic…

ceiling…overnight to flood Daddy’s desk and computer keyboard so Daddy did not go to work happy.

Not that he goes to work particularly happy these days, anyway; due to lack of personal days left, we were forced to cancel my real vacation, a few days at a resort where I don’t even have to play house; martinis are served to me in unchipped glasses. Meals replete with matching flatware.

Now that the house is quiet and I’m waiting for the air-conditioning man, I feel like this:

lily

a once flowering NH lake lily, now sad and droopy, because I feel guilty that I’m not missing my beloved boys; sad because Daddy went off angry and sad himself over waterlogged keyboard;  sad and a little angry myself my small and spindly boys are now playing  football:

football

Last night was first practice in what they proudly call their “armor.” Little Bro’s little legs still look like his toddler ones, and his head waggles in his newly-fitted helmet as if his neck might snap. My armored football child still sleeps with blankie. Big Bro is football-armored now too. And even though Big Bro is even more spindly, as well as a good two inches shorter than Little Bro, at least he no longer sleeps with Bunny.

So I’m stuck here alone in my “down-time” with stink of the dog’s meaty rawhide bone as Poodle Pup gnaws beneath the table, to worriedly gnaw over snapped necks, and  whether I boiled and molded boys’ mouth guards correctly (which my dentist nicely pointed out had less to do with teeth than concussions):

mouthguard

Feeling a rawhide headache coming on, I try not to glance out the window at the neglected yard, the vines strangling my favorite lilac tree. And to ignore the ominous  iPhone texting alert;  my mother and her long-time “aide,” really her cleaning lady of 20 years, can bicker like sisters, so I get texts about how said aide is hurt because my mother didn’t like said aide going into the coffee can where said mother keeps her cash in the freezer to retrieve her weekly pay; which, stupidly, was my idea, to make life a little less complicated. Bad, bad idea, Daughter. Bad daughter.

I would like to live on an airplane. Where on command you must turn off cellphone. Turn off not only said aide but other said aides all who like to text me that they don’t like each other very much.

On a brighter note, the boys actually did come home with something looking a bit more robotic yesterday:

beyblad

Alright, not exactly a robot – more like a sewing machine with a chute to spin down a top… I’m waiting for the robot they bring home that is sultry as Siri and will vacuum, clean out gerbil cage and sympathetically ask how many aide texts did I have to retrieve that day and serve me a strong martini because perfect robot will know I need one.

And if I do get said robot, and if the world will start being nicer to me, I might feel like this one day:

cow2

A decorative, however middle-aged, bespectacled cow hiding modestly behind a tree, but for all to admire.


About Sandra

Author;editor of The Woven Tale Press at thewoventalepress.net; mother; weaver
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8 Responses to Tale Tues: Putty Robots and the Wilted Lily

  1. Rebecca ~ Raige Creations says:

    teehee, that is some cow! Don’t feel guilty for enjoying some of your own quiet time! You certainly do deserve it. Enjoy. and enjoy those football practices and games, because soon enough they will be going off to college for their sophomore year, and you will learn your next will be graduating early, same as her older brother did, it all happens so fast!! And then they want to speed it up more. Some days I miss those Little League days, with them making such weirdly creative things, and bickering. Well, they still do that, bicker….anyhoo, enjoy!!!

    • Sandra says:

      Those cows were all over NH. Just not all with reading glasses:) And it’s the football part that eats at me; can you get a concussion from Little League?

  2. ajwrites57 says:

    Oh Sandra, such talent to turn a sad day into a funny post. The fears, small catastrophes, vacations that fall short of expectations and undone things are what life is made of (although not always on the same day or in the same sad month). Here’s to our armor, keeping moms upright and the moments to take stock and hope for better days. (Chewing cud and mooing to our hearts content!) Thanks Sandra!!

  3. Amy Morgan says:

    I think you would have enjoyed your down time a little more with a nice glass of wine. (Chipped cup or not). 🙂

  4. I would love my own personalized robot that brought me drinks and sympathy! Beautifully written post.

  5. No guilt Sandra. My mother loved summer camp as much as we did and she used the time to pitch our unused stuff. When we’d ask her if she’d seen something, she’d tossed, she’d smile and say “keep looking.” Mom’s an evil genius.
    You’ll catch up and be in full bloom in no time.

    (p.s. the airplane thing? Better make it a bi-plane)

  6. i feel like that a lot… wanting everyone out, so i can have the place to myself…. unfortunately it doesn’t happen much….. enjoy your ‘me’ time… 🙂

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