The Human Vacuum

My refrigerator sits, a cold, barren wasteland, like the tundra of Alaska. Well, if the Alaskan tundra had empty food storage containers strewn about. I open the pantry and to my horror, I fear that thieves broke in during the night and ransacked the snacks, leaving behind empty granola bar boxes, bags that hold individual servings of chips and popcorn, and a few stray Cheerios at the bottom of the box.

My heart begins to race. I just went grocery shopping yesterday! How can this be? All that food - and money - gone! In less than 24 hours, I am back to square one. Back to my refrigerator looking like that of a college frat house with a bottle of ketchup, one lonely yogurt cup and something mysterious wrapped in foil.

I’m startled out of my panic when I hear a familiar voice chime in from behind me heading ever closer to the crime scene.

“Mommmm, there’s nothing to eeeaaat!” the voice moans as if the person who owns the voice hadn’t eaten in days.

And then it hits me. We have not been robbed by a gang of ravenous bandits. This was an inside job orchestrated and executed by my dear, sweet, bottomless pit of a 14-year old son.

I answer to his cries of starvation, “There’s plenty of watermelon, I just cut it up!”

“Nope. I ate it,” human vacuum says with a grin.

Grrrrr..."That’s the empty watermelon container? Could you please not put empty containers back in the fridge?” I beg, tears welling in my eyes as I remember the days when I could go to the grocery store but once a week.

I continue with my usual rebuttals. “Chocolate pudding? Popcorn? Yogurt? Strawberries? Cereal?”

“Ummm, nope. All gone. The granola bars are done,too. I left the empty box in the cabinet so you would know. Just wanna help you, mom!” he says while putting his arm around me and giving me a loving, and I detect, sarcastic squeeze.

“You know what else is all gone, too? My money. So get creative, kid, and enjoy that ketchup, cup of yogurt and mystery item wrapped in foil until payday!”

The Stomach Bug (as told by the classroom floor and trash can)

Floor: All day long, every day, I get walked on. Kicked. Dirt and goose poop get ground into my 1960s pores.

Trash can: We do have it pretty bad, don’t we? I mean, the teacher thinks she has it the worst? You see her crying when the kids are at art, grading that stack of papers while she stress eats 3 packs of Oreos from the vending machine. Pfft.  She's got it easy!

Floor: Yeah, and mumbling something about having to go pee but she also has to make 25 copies of 10 packets and the stapler in the machine wasn't working which meant she'd have to hand staple all those copies and she only had 20 minutes left.  Did she ever go pee?

Oh sorry, I digress. Please, enlighten me. How do you have it worse than me?

Trash can: Those kids throw booger-covered tissues and bloodied bandages in me from the 3-point line in the classroom!

Floor: Ahem. And when they miss, which they almost always do, they land on ME. So, you were saying?

Trash can: Paper towels that wipe down the filth of 25 eight-year-olds are nonchalantly tossed in me whenever the teacher has a minute to wipe down the desks in this place. And let’s not forget how I accompany the kids down the hall all winter long.

Floor: Ohhh right. The winter. (shudders)

Trash Can: Exactly! That walk of shame that I have to do, being held by some kid that is about to spew his Pop-Tart and chocolate milk breakfast of champions all over me!

Floor: Whoooa, hold on there, big guy. I have no warning! Zero! They just up and chuck all over me! At least you know that once they scoop you up and take you for a stroll, there is a very good likelihood that you will be the recipient of blown chunks. Me? One minute I’m relaxing while the kids are finally in their seats and I have a moment to myself and the next minute…

Trash Can: Ok, yeah. You win.

One Out of 12 Ain't Bad

“Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?”

Well, Rent, glad you asked!

Since February just happens to be the worst month ever, let’s start out with that one. It is the saddest, darkest and strangely enough, shortest month. Twenty-eight days that seem to stretch on for years with its cold, black mornings of nothingness. We made it through the hectic holidays of December, a month that can be holly, jolly and fun for many but at the price of credit card debt, dysfunctional family get togethers, and misinterpreted “Happy Holidays!” and “Grrr, he didn’t say MERRY CHRISTMAS! Even though he was so pleasant and smiled. Why isn’t everyone participating in our beliefs?” We persevered through January, a month that starts off with resolutions of health and happiness and ends six weeks later in empty gyms and winter blues.

So, back to February. We muddle through, making Valentine’s Day into a holiday just to give ourselves some joy and chocolate in this bleak wasteland of winter. We even take off a Monday to stretch out a long weekend hoping Abe and George will give us a glimmer of hope in this most wretched month. Finally, the 28th comes, or in the godforsaken Leap Year, the 29th, and we gleefully rip February from our desk calendars in anticipation of March. March! Spring! Flowers and green, and sunshine!

Not so fast. Oh, March, you little lying weasel. You sneer at us like an evil villain pretending to bring hope because you carry the first day of spring in your pocket. You lure us to your windowless white van with your promises of candy and puppy dogs. But nope. Instead, you spit wreckless winds for 31 days, allowing April’s showers to show up like an unwanted in-law 30 days early. And then you have the gall to continue the temperatures of your ugly predecessor, February.

Then April comes hoppin’ down the bunny trail. Its pastel woven basket holds hopes of jellybeans and baby chicks and tulips and SPRING! The real SPRING! Hold on there, my marshmallow peeps. Sure, we are about two weeks into spring, but we all know how those May flowers are going to bloom. Yep. April showers. Downpours. N’oreasters. Heck, we might even get a good snowstorm this month. So, April? Your only redeeming quality is that you are one month closer to summer.

As we round out April, we head into the lovely sunshiney May. May you be happy now! May you find the joy that was sucked from you for the past 7 months! May you find a reason to get out of bed when the sunrise actually occurs before you open your eyes in the morning. Thank you, May for having 31 days. We relish every single one of them.

June, we’re not really sure what to think about you. You have such potential to be a great month, but sadly, you keep our children imprisoned in their schools until almost your last week! As if that’s not bad enough for the lil ones who just want out, think of the teachers trying to enrich their brains for those last three weeks! You bring such promise of summer and outside play and the anticipation of a long awaited break. But really, you’re just cruel.

July. July...what can I say? You are a close runner-up to May with your summer vacations, parades and fireworks, late nights with friends laughing and enjoying the laid back summa’ time living reminiscent of 80s Country Time Lemonade commercials. Sure, you bring on 100% humidity and bad hair days, but I’ll gladly wipe my brow with my hanky throughout the day for the sweet freedom you bring.

As we roll into August, some might still be enjoying a carefree summer break, but for anyone heading back to school soon, it’s a bittersweet month. Sometimes described as one long Sunday night, we know that September is hiding around the corner armed with freshly sharpened Ticonderoga pencils, crisp white notebook paper and a rainbow of new crayons, ready to jump out at any minute and scare the bejeezus out of us. It’s not only the back to school thing that is disappointing. It’s the mere threat that...winter is coming. Yep, in the wise words of Game of Thrones, it is. Maybe not tomorrow or next week or next month. But if you absolutely loathe temperatures below 65, August brings thoughts of fall which inevitably brings winter. And we all know how that goes. If you forgot, start at the top of this post.

Aside: We’re just skipping over September, October and November. Nothing notable here. Unless you’re into shipping the kids back to school so you can get back to lunching with friends, bulky sweaters and pumpkin everything, then have at it and celebrate!

So thank you, May, for being the one redeemable month in a dozen that could take a lesson or two from you and improve their games.

Let's hear from you! What's your favorite month and why? Or least favorite month? We like Positive Pollys and Pessimistic Pollys! All Pollys welcome!