Me

The Tank

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There’s the morning sound. It’s the one that tells them to start the day. It’s followed by grunts and moans. That’s the one they call mommy. She doesn’t like the morning sound. Here she comes. She only has one eye open, barely. That lady is a mess in the morning. She’s stumbling by. I’m glad I’m the only one that sees her hair like that. I hope she feeds me soon. She’s going to the black box. She drinks fuel from it every morning. The kids are screaming and jumping on her. They are so happy this early. The mommy needs to work on morning happy.

She shuffles to the bathroom chugging the fuel. She forgot to feed me. Maybe next time. She gets her clothes and makeup on, hair looks better than earlier. All in robot mode until the fuel takes over. She makes up the bed. I can tell after that first accomplishment of the day she thinks she rocks, which makes me chuckle.

It’s getting late. She better feed the kids. The daddy gives her a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the rear. He’ll be leaving soon. I think she misses him. Looks like she’s got oatmeal, blueberries, and milk on the table. She emptied dishes, packed backpacks, started the laundry. Here comes coffee number 2, right on time. They play bee, bee, bumble bee at breakfast. I love this game, especially when they see blue and it’s me.

She’s writing a grocery list, filling water cups. She mediates a fight over who gets Mr. Turtle. She gets the kids dressed. They look so cute today. I hope they notice me. Maybe if I make bubbles. They love my bubbles. Oh boy, another fight over which shoes to wear.

She’s passing by. Flip, squirm, please look at me! She’ll come back in a minute. She’s got toys to pick up. His shoes are finally on. Must clip those coupons, looks like 3 bills to pay today. She looks worried. Towel folding time, they have to be folded just right. The mommy is so particular. How many more times will she clean the kitchen and pick up toys?

She bends down to hug the kids. She squeezes them harder lately. They are heading out the door, her arms lined with bags. I hear keys fall twice. Everything is so quiet now. I wonder what she’s thinking?
Well, I only dropped the keys twice today, doing better. Too many bags and cups and hands to hold. Everyone buckled. Out the door on time today. Drop-off at school. He looks so tiny walking to that big building. Where did my baby go? Wipe the tears. Must keep going. Scan list again to plan aisle routes. Oops, did I ever feed the fish? Traffic is busy, grocery is busy. It wasn’t always this busy. Fill the cart. Do we need this? Entertain bored kid while looking for sales. Please, just make it a little longer. I don’t like this either. Load the van. She has to pee now? Back to the store. Leave again. Remember six things I forgot to get. Oh well, not going back. Fight the traffic. Unload the van. Fill the pantry. Wipe the sweat. Thankful. The fish! I’ll feed him now. Why is she crying? Fish will have to wait…

They’re back! They’ve been gone for days. Maybe minutes, my brain is too small for such matters. She’s bringing bags of food in. Speaking of food… Oh, she glanced my way. Now the kid is crying, there she goes. They’re playing with dolls. She’s fixing lunch, cleaning the kitchen again. It’s book time. My favorite. I love The Rainbow Fish book, and that other one about the pig. The kid is asleep. The mommy is writing. She looks peaceful now.

She glances up at me. Finally. Thanks for the food, one they call mommy. She talks in that strange baby voice and I wiggle for her. I love that part. She looks tired. Sometimes I think she believes she’s failed. I wish she could hop in my tank and look out.

From here she could see, she’s doing just fine.

2 thoughts on “The Tank”

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