Forget Me Lots & Lots

can i call you back in five years

When I was a teenager I couldn’t understand why people over thirty let themselves go. My eighteen year old self would be horrified if he could see me now. Fortunately, my children have spent their lifetimes educating me on what’s important in life.

Some days, having kids is like being a contestant on a game show and having to pick between doors one, two or three. You don’t know what you’re going to end up with – it could be the car, it could be the encyclopedias – but you just know by the end of the episode you’re going to have a great story to tell your friends.

A friend of mine has been having a rough week. Work commitments, kid commitments and all the other commitments in her life have conspired to make their demands all at once.

“I’m exhausted,” she confided in me. “The light’s on but no one’s home. I can barely think.”

We’ve all had those days/weeks/months. You just want to call in sick then lie on the couch watching Ellen. But we don’t, do we? No, we soldier on. We throw on our work shirts and shoes and drag our feet to the car and head into town.

As my friend did this morning.

“I’d driven most the way to the post office when it suddenly occurred to me something was wrong with the air conditioner. My legs were freezing,” she told me.

I understand. I get cold feet some days.

Over the last 21 years, kids have meant I’ve done a lot of things I never thought I would. I’ve wiped another human’s bum, for one. I’ve said no to invitations to go out drinking and I’ve said yes to a request to go to a Wiggles concert. I’ve enjoyed going to a Wiggles concert. I’ve spent all day in front of the telly without moving the station from ABC2. I’ve sat on a toilet reading a book while my kids splashed so much water onto the floor I’ve had to mop. I’ve put on twenty kilos, most of it from kiddy friendly pasta dishes.

But it’s the stuff I’ve ended up doing just because I’ve been too exhausted to know better or stop it which really sticks in my mind. I’ve gone to work wearing Tracey’s undies. I’ve woken up choking on vomit because my two year old daughter has thrown up in my mouth. I’ve dropped a litre of red gloss paint on my dining room carpet. I’ve left the handbrake off and had my car roll down a hill into a power pole.

Having read the above, the eighteen year old me would have just gone out and had himself neutered.

It’s funny, but it’s these things we’re forced to do or endure because we have kids which make the whole experience so much richer, if a little more expensive or potentially embarrassing.

As my friend found this morning when she looked down at her freezing legs and quickly did a double take, then spun the car around and drove as carefully and law abidingly as she could all the way home.

It turns out there was absolutely nothing wrong with the air conditioning.

“When I’d dressed for work I’d forgotten to put on my pants!”

Yep, she was about to pull up at the local post office and hop out in nothing but her work shirt and undies.

Which is the only bit in this whole post my eighteen year old self would have heartily approved of 🙂

If we got a chuckle out of you please repay with a share 🙂

remember when we were young and you pointed to that old man at the mall and said to me if i ever try to leave the house dressed like that shoot me

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 ‘raising a family on little more than laughs’




  • Thanks heaps,I needed to know I was still alive,as opposed to being the zombie I thought I was.Victoria

    • We’re all in the same boat Victoria. You listen close you can hear the screams from the other cabins 😉

  • Bahaha – oh i’ve lost count of the number of times i’ve had to return from the 20min drive into town for various things forgotten (and yes dressing correctly is in there somewhere) LOL

  • Heh, I can gratefully say that I have not headed out the door without pants… but only because 30+ me actually has ‘clothes’ on the mental list I run through before leaving the house 😉 You know: wallet, phone, keys, clothes, semblance of sanity…

    • That sanity one sounds good. I might add it to my list. Where would I find it? Pantry? Linen cupboard? Sock drawer? I admit I haven’t seen it for a while.

  • Oh no, you misunderstood me… SEMBLANCE of sanity 😉 I’m pretty sure that my actual sanity is in the bag of spare socks I have sitting in the laundry. It has partnerless baby booties in it still, and my youngest child is almost four.

  • New to reading your blog (recommended by Reservoir Dad) and I love it!! This post gave me a huge giggle – lots to look forward to for me I reckon, my son is only 16mths old and thankfully I haven’t left the house without my pants yet (poor lady!!)

  • I managed to leave the house and go visiting and shopping in mismatched shoes. I only noticed when I got home, juggling a semi comatose baby and the amazing amount of gear he apparently needs to survive outside the house, that my shoes really did not look right.
    I’m trying to convince myself i am starting a new trend. 😛

  • Do you know what Mr Greasemonkey and I do to embarrass Miss 18. We will dress almost identical and pick her up from work at the end of her shift. She works at McDonald’s and had to work on McHappy Day. Hubby and I wore red tshirts, denim jeans and black shoes. So did her brother, Mr 14, and Hubby’s aunt.

  • I don’t know how I missed this when you first wrote it but I’ve literally laughed for last five minutes!! The poor woman!

  • When I started back at work after 18 months at home with my baby, my sister got into the habit of asking me whether I had my shoes on every day before I left the house. At least three times, I had left for work then had to rush home when I realised that I still had my slippers on!

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