*This post is not about the use of violence to make someone do what they don’t want to do. Do not for one second that I think that NO means anything other than NO. I’m talking about doing what is RIGHT even when we don’t feel like doing it.
It’s Monday. My oldest kid is yodeling something truly awful in the shower and my youngest kid is reading 5,000 Calvin & Hobbes comic strips at the top of his lungs. My dog ate my shoes, I need to do laundry, it’s a holiday where everyone is a slug all day and I have to / get to teach two classes. This whole day oozes “I DON’T WANNA!”
Really, what is it with boys and volume? Annoying volume. Pointless volume. Incessant volume. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
Anyway, there’s been a lot of talk about “I don’t wanna” around me lately: kids not wanting to shower (don’t get me started,) husbands not wanting to go to work, dogs not wanting to be decent living beings, me not wanting to cook, folks not wanting to go to the gym or to the gyno (believe me, they both can be horrible, any number of people not wanting to leave the bar, leave their beds, leave their Mama’s garage (Twitter joke, sorry,) and folks not wanting to do Utkatasana or Ustrasana or anything other than Savasana (more about that in a minute.)
Yesterday was Sunday Funday and I found myself lounging around my house reading all morning. It was beautiful – guilt free reading and lounging and the like. I had made a huge breakfast and the kids were stuffed, I was still able to be in denial about the laundry situation, and my dogs weren’t being complete assholes, so I was deeply engrossed in my book for hours. About 1:30, my husband waltzes in to my little book nook and announces that we should all go out for a canoe ride!
Me: But I’m reading and the kids are playing! (truth)
Him: But it’s a beautiful day! (lie – it was overcast and muggy as hell.)
Me: BUT I’M READING! (serious truth)
Him: I’ll do all the work. (97% truth)
Me: I have to plan a few classes, do laundry, and a hundred other things. (true, but I prob wasn’t going to do them)
Him: We won’t be gone long, just a little float! (Hmmm, I smell a rat)
Me: I am fine and happy just staying here!
Him: Okay, we can just stay here, babe!
Me: Fine, okay, shit. Let’s go, dammit. sigh.
And so he loaded up the canoe and the trolling motor and battery and a cooler and the bug spray and fishing stuff and I loaded a pack full of resentment and huffiness and away we went. Oh yeah, we packed the kids in there, too. We made it to our spot and unloaded everything and hooked it all up and, whaddya know, the battery for the motor went dead. See, normally that’s not a big deal because we have oars and it’s not like we’re on a yacht or something, BUT this time we were loaded down and everything was heavy and we had a headwind and .. guh. So, of course, I unpack my huffiness and air it out a bit. The husband, however, was undeterred! We unloaded the trolling motor and the battery, dumped out half the ice, and played rock paper scissors to see which kid would get locked in the car and took off.
Okay, I’m lying about that last part, but it would have made a good story, eh?