Flipping the lights on to my work office, my day as a small town newspaper editor was about to begin.
Sipping on my cup of coffee as I juggled an assortment of papers and folders, something caught my attention out of the corner of my left eye.
YOU’RE FIRED!
The message was quite clear across my dry erase board. I apparently was unemployed.
Not only was the message written in all capital letters, but it was also done in a neon pink color.
I couldn’t help but grin as I sat all my belongings on my desk. Our son James had been at the office the night before while his Dad was working late, and he likes to color and write stories while my husband Jason and I wrap up another newspaper.
James must think I don’t do anything around here. And in the words of that famous television guy who’s running for something, I was fired.
I decided to wipe my board clean and begin writing my daily “to-do” for my next edition of The Herald. But as I took one swipe across the board, nothing happened.
“Are you kidding me,” I asked aloud. “Please tell me that kid didn’t use a permanent marker.”
Despite scrubbing until my knuckles began to bleed, I soon realized that my worst fear was correct. YOU’RE FIRED was there to stay.
As I continued to work that day, I kept glaring up at that board of depression and incompetence. The message served as a reminder all day that my kid, my eldest, believed I should be tossed to the wolves.
“You just can’t have anything,” I said, recalling other items that my children destroyed in their young lives.
When I became a parent, I expected those messes to happen within our home. It’s natural. Kids are born with some wild force of nature to leave a path of destruction.
I did it to my own mother, and I was reaping what I had sowed.
But come on...
The Patterson kids have taken the game to a whole new level.
Have you ever walked inside your house to be hit in the face with green slime dripping from the ceiling? I have, and the glob of green gunk remains forever stuck to my ceiling.
Do you have a nice recliner to relax in after a hard day’s work?
I used to, but that was before James dropkicked the recliner during a karate demonstration. The seat of the recliner caved completely in where his Chuck Norris-style foot landed.
Those toy boxes that arrive from the store with their perfect white paint glistening for all to behold? Ours is now covered with scenes of rainbows and unicorns in an array of marker colors. Elsie felt expressing her creative side was perfect for her toy box canvas.
Ever stick your hand inside your beauty drawer to pull out a bobby pin without looking? Not in my house. Not after Elsie squeezed an entire tube of toothpaste in it.
Do you have nice, clean walls in your house? Well, congratulations. Our walls are covered with chocolate fingerprints and marks from Nike shoe prints.
Think you can find peace in the comfort of your bathroom? That peace quickly leaves after you realize you accidentally flushed a toy truck down the toilet.
Ever fix yourself a bowl of cereal that was filled with green Army men? I knew the cereal company gave prizes, but I received an entire artillery unit.
Those flat screen televisions are nice. But they look pretty bad after a Wii game console control lands in the middle of it.
Fans are nice to have in the hot summer weather too. But they don’t last long after they suck a helium balloon into the spinning blade.
Think you are gonna grab that Pop Tart for a quick bite to eat? Think again. The empty box has remained on the shelf for weeks. It usually has the wrappers left in it.
Don’t invite company over before inspecting your fridge either. That bowl of worms doesn’t look appetizing to strangers.
Let Calgon take you away with a nice bubble bath. But make sure the kids haven’t replaced it with dishwashing liquid cause they were too scared to admit they used in all during one bath.
Yeah, kids leave you surprises daily. You work hard for your things, but they usually end up covered in Play-Do and flat-out broken.
I accept the fact that I won’t be able to keep “nice things” until all the kids are out of the house.
But then I know I will miss those moments, those edge of your seat surprises.
Maybe I’ll even miss finding frogs in the dish rag drawer. Or perhaps I’ll miss seeing their names carved on my table. Surely I will miss their small handprints across my television screen and the mystery goo in car floorboard.
I remembered that as I turned the light to my office off at the end of my work day.
Walking past my YOU’RE FIRED sign, it was yet another memory.
I think I will leave it there for now. It really ties the room together.
