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The Queens CatalogConversations about art in the Queen City Author: Glynnis O'Donoghue
Glynnis O'Donoghue sits down for 10-minute conversations with her favorite artists in Charlotte and the surrounding areas. Language: en-us Genres: Arts, Comedy, Performing Arts Contact email: Get it Feed URL: Get it iTunes ID: Get it Trailer: |
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A Mom-Gyver Story
Monday, 18 October, 2021
Obligatory Millennial Mom Reference Last week my husband was in Chicago for work, and I was home, in awe of all the single parents who take care of small children on their own. It was bedtime. When my husband travels, my kid and I record our nightly bedtime story to send to him. After we had done that, I put my phone in my room, walked back into my son’s room with the dog, and shut the door behind me like I normally do and have done without incident for the past four years. After saying our goodnights, I tucked the kiddo in, turned off the lights, went to leave, and realized I couldn’t because the door was locked. FROM THE OUTSIDE. I turned the lights back on and tried pulling it open with sheer brute force. No luck. As the reality of what was happening started to sink in, I tried knocking loudly on the door and yelling, “Hello!?” (The delusional part of my brain thought that maybe my husband would open the door and say something like “Gotcha! I’m home early!”* while the true crime part of my brain that has listened to way too many murder podcasts started to think that someone was in the house and had purposely locked us in.)From behind me, the 4YO said “Mommy! Why are you doing that? Nobody is out there.” I forced a light laugh and told him he was right, but the silly door was stuck! I frantically looked for something to jimmy the lock, but - LOL - it is a small child’s room and there are no sharp or pointed objects lying around. Pacing around his tiny bedroom, I started feeling that feeling that you have as an adult (and that I’ve started to feel even more acutely as a parent) where you’re like “Who is going to fix this?! UGH - it’s ME. I am going to have to fix this!” It soon became clear there was only one option.I opened the window and screen and looked out into the darkness (why do things like this always happen at night?!). I considered yelling for help. Like, just shouting my neighbors’ names until someone heard me? But the houses around me were dark. I looked down at the ground and came to the conclusion that we had to leave the room through the window. It’s about a 7 foot drop - not too bad. Before I could think too hard about it, I turned to my 4YO and said, “We’re going to have an adventure! Get your slippers on!” I explained the plan to him: I was going to dangle him out of the window as far as I could, and then he was going to drop down the rest of the way. His immediate response was “That’s scary!” So I had to spend a few minutes explaining that this was “fun jumping out of the window that is allowed,” not “scary jumping out of the window that is not allowed!” (I will be dealing with the repercussions of this conversation for years.) I picked him up, dangled, and dropped - he did great! Easy peasy. I told him to back up a little into the yard so I could come out, and then it was my turn to escape. I spent a few awkward moments trying to get my ass out of the window, cheered on by the 4YO yelling “Jump, Mommy! Jump!” I had to reposition many times, clinging to the window sill and acquiring many bruises in the process. Mostly on my arms, but also in other places I won’t mention. (My butt - the bruises are on my butt.) At this point the 4YO said “I hear something scary out here,” creating another rush of adrenaline in me (I DON’T WANT TO BE A PODCAST!) that spurred me to go with a sort of perch and push maneuver that got me out of the house and into the grass. Once we were both freed from the locked room, that’s when the whole situation started to feel less scary, and I could already start to acknowledge that this shit was hilarious. I grabbed the kid’s hand and tried the front and back doors, just in case I had left one of them unlocked. Alas, dear reader, I am TOO GOOD AT LOCKING. I knew we just needed a phone. We walked down the driveway, me in socks, the 4YO in dinosaur pajamas and peruvian alpaca pantuflas. At this very moment, our neighbor from a few doors down, who also has a 4YO (who my son adores), was driving by. When he stopped to check and see if we were alright and I explained our situation, he said I could of course use his phone and bring the 4YO down to their house to wait while things got sorted out. From this point on, my son proceeded to have the best night of his entire life because he got to read bedtime stories with his friend and “be in my friend’s house!” (A lifelong dream of his since he is a quarantine kiddo who only plays outside with other children.) I got in touch with my husband, who called our friend who has a spare key to our house. He came over, let me in, and helped me check all the rooms and closets for intruders so that I could have even a shred of a chance of sleeping.I opened the 4YO’s door. His room was full of moths and our sleeping geriatric dog, who was completely deaf and didn’t even move when I came in. (I was in emergency mode while making our exit and didn’t stop to think about how horrifying it must have been for her to look on helplessly as we abandoned her through the window. Unfortunately this is exactly the kind of bullshit she’d probably come to expect from us ever since we brought home the hairless puppy 4 years ago.)I retrieved my son from our neighbors and tucked him into bed. It took a while for him to settle down after all the excitement, and he kept asking me if we “could have another adventure tomorrow.” I hedged and told him we’d talk about it in the morning, while imagining him telling his preschool class that he “jumped out the window with my mom” at his group sharing time the next day. I shut his door for the last time that night (making sure it was definitely NOT locked), took a deep breath and headed into the kitchen because the thing that awaits you on the other side of adventures when you’re an adult is a sink full of dishes. I guess we also made a pretty great memory in which I come out looking like Mom-Gyver. And as a bonus, later on in the week once my husband was back, I overheard my son telling him that he thought there was a scary monster in the backyard, but “it was just mommy’s bottom in the window!” So, you know, that feels good, too. *He would never do this because a. it’s not funny and b. we don’t have the energy to prank each other anymore! (Can you believe I used to fill up water balloons and draw penises on them and leave them in the shower for him? What kind of TIME was I made of?!)
