What a Mess

I live in a disaster...In my van that is. Cleanliness has drawn the line at my front door. Anything that goes beyond is considered fair game to be crapped on, and many neighborhood dogs do just that! Yesterday, in fact, my shoe found it's way into a nice fresh pile of steamy dog poop. Somebody should be shot...I digress...

My van has been known to swallow children alive. We've lost Layelle more times than I can count. Amidst piles of long forgotten clothing (mainly coats and the like) is fast food wrappers, old baby cups (milk is STRICTLY not allowed) and, my favorite, junk mail. Once items have made their way to the floor of this abhorrent wreck, we never see them again...At least not in their original form.

It was time to leave my house. I knew what I was up against. We had a rough week and fast food had been on the menu quite a few times. Not only did I feel like an unqualified mother for filling my children with garbage, but I got a double dose of inadequacy as they tripped their way through the vomit which was my van floor. We had important errands, I had no choice but to quickly maneuver them into their seats and hurridly head out on our way. Emelia met her first obstacle head on...A cup full of water, courtesy of Wendy's.

"It spilled!" she screamed from the very back of the van.

Ugh, another mess I would most likely not be cleaning up.

"Okay," I flipped my mirror so I could get a clear picture of the damage this catastrophe was doing to my 4 year old.

She was in hysterics.

"Hey, calm down, and just pick up the cup," my idea seemed reasonable enough to me.

"I can't reach it!" she wailed.

I sighed, but my greatest idea was yet to come, "Just unbuckle for a second, while we are at this stop sign."

The look that passed over that child's face went from desperation to complete indignance.

"You want me to get a ticket, don't you?" She asked, her face contorted into a blatant scowl.

"No, I don't want you to get a ticket. We are stopped so just go ahead and pick up the cup," I invisioned the contents spewing across a pile of library books that had yet to be returned.

"You DO want me to get a ticket," her eyes were wild now, and by the looks of it she was sure the police were on their way at just the mention of breaking the law, and unbuckling her seatbelt.

"You won't get a ticket, I will," my reasoning skills were being primed here.

"Yeah, and then we will have no money," she looked at me like I had completely taken leave of my senses.

"Just pick up the dang cup!!!" I cried, feeling helpless as I realized I was arguing with my someone who could barely write her own name.

"You want us to have no food, and to have no money, and Daddy will have to work all of the time, and we won't even be able to buy clothes."

And there it was, the final demise of the water cup. How could I argue with the complete breakdown of life as we know it? I couldn't, so I pulled out onto the road, feeling utterly demoralized. I began to get lost in a sea of my own thoughts when a defiant voice from behind uttered, "These things wouldn't happen if you'd just clean up the van ya' know."