Friday, October 15, 2010

I am the Bloody Oracle!

After reading a blog post HERE, I left a comment about being the bloody oracle. Anyone else suffer with being this maddening deity? While I realise, and think it’s quite sweet really, that my children ask me where everything is, it doesn’t mean I have to sodding well like it. Especially not when I have a large number of children—it seemed a good idea at the time (only joking, love them really)—and all of them ask me throughout the day, one after the other, preferably each child requesting I know something more than once, where their gear is. Especially not when it’s my writing time they’re interrupting with their queries.

Imagine it:

John caressed Marjorie’s buttocks (Mum, where’s my shoes?) (In the shoe rack where they’re meant to be. *cue Mum’s smugness at her delicate dig*) and felt the heat of her arousal pressed against his leg. She gasped (Mum, where’s my purple wotsit with the sparkly bits on it?) (*Grits teeth* What sparkly wotsit?) (You know, that wotsit I got at that party.) (I have no idea what sparkly wotsit you’re talking about *Pant! Pant! Lord give me strength!*) (But I need it!) (Do you? Righty ho. Perhaps try your bedroom? *I need a bloody skillet to wrap about your head.*) and reached her hand up to cup his cheek. (Mum, where’s my—) (You’d better not be asking me where your shoes are again, boy!)

And on it goes.

Of course, ever since they can remember, Mum has always sorted things out, knew where everything was, so, as they’ve grown they refuse to think for themselves. It’s easier to ask Mum instead.

Where’s my oracle? *stamps feet* Where’s the person I ask? *throws self on floor like a dying swan and makes groaning noises one of the heroines in my books would proud of*

Uh, that would be me too.

I’m all for having an easy life, but at times, my little buggers…uh, I mean darling children, need to take a bit of responsibility for where they put their—wait for it!—“thingy”.

There are numerous things a “thingy” could be, and much as I’d like the ability to read minds, I don’t know what those thingies are when I’m asked where they are.

A classic example: “Muuuuuuuuuuuuuum! Where’s my thingy?”

“I have no idea. If I knew what the thingy was, I might know, but also, unless the thingy was left down here for me to put away—which is usually the case *more Mummy smugness at yet another dig*—why would I know where you put it?”

I am the bloody oracle.

I’ve tried being clever and asking them if they can cast their minds back to the time they last saw their thingy. I know this doesn’t even work for me at times, but hey, it’s worth a shot, right? But they are infinitely cleverer.

“I can’t remember.”

“Ah, you blessed little…sweet child. You can’t remember. That’s a good one. I’ll have to remember that one. I mean, remember not to remember where my thingies are.”

Some days I don’t even remember where my head is, let alone my thingy (and if I were a man, that would sound just plain WRONG). Just the other day I made a cup of tea. You know, the British kind with milk. There it sat on the kitchen side, and I’m stirring in the milk after having squeezed the old PG Tips bag and dumping it in the bin. My mind was full of a WIP, and, funny enough, I’d stopped at a scene where my characters were having a coffee. Absently, I reached for my coffee jar and added a spoon to my tea. I've done this before, and it features in my free read, Love Quest, except then I added gravy powder (don't ask...). I must say, the shock that I did this brought me up short. Am I going crazy now? Do I need to watch myself while out crossing the road? Because if I’m thinking about my characters like this, I might do myself some damage.

Anyway, the tea/coffee combo made quite a nice drink. Yeah, I drank it.

So, I may well tell my children that I can no longer be the bloody oracle due to diminished responsibility. “I’m insane, my beauties, so it isn’t safe to ask me where your thingies are.”

Reckon it will work? Nah, I don’t think so either, but it’s worth a try.


Failing that, I can always buy some of these. I heard they were pretty effective.


24 comments:

Tess MacKall said...

LMAO....

OMG @ "Yeah, I drank it." LMAO

I'd drink it too. Hey, ya made the mistake, may as well suck it up and pay for it. LOL

I do things just like this, Nat. Remember "the forgotten omelet"? It's pretty bad with me sometimes.

As for the children/family. I've actually called family meetings in which I discuss with them the things they are doing like this and have asked them to stop because, well, they are old enough to do these things themselves without bugging me. Lasts a couple of days and then they are right back to it.

Love the post. I can soooo identify.

C. Zampa said...

I love it! The oracle pills! Take one daily,eh? LOL.

Will it work? Nah. I think the 'oracle' role is just programmed into us, we have no choice.

But take it from me. When the children are all moved out and the oracle has no more powers because there's no one around, the oracle misses being...well, the oracle. LOL.

And, yes, the tea/coffee combo sounds quite nice.

Fun blog!

Natalie Dae said...

AAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA! Tess, I'm laughing insanely because it's turning out to be one of those days... ARGH!

Oh, same here too about them going back to normal after a couple of days. I swear I need some of those EffOff tablets.

:)

Natalie Dae said...

Yes, CZ, one a day. Jolly good meds.

I'm looking forward to not being the oracle. What I'm going to do, when they've all left home, is one day telephone them one by one and say: "Child of mine, where's my THINGY?"

:)

Faith said...

Thank you for the link, hon!

And I've so SERIOUSLY thought about buying an air horn, but like I said before, I'm terrified if I used it, it would frighten someone so badly they'd fall down the stairs.

One day, I had my door shut and locked. Now mind you, this is a nice home, but some things are still very old fashioned like the upstairs doors. They have that thin band of metal and a delicate lock where all you need do is push hard and it will open regardless. My oldest boy came by and the hubby told him he was taking his life in his hands if he interrupted me. The boy actually broke open my office door regardless. That's the day I needed the air horn!!!

And yes, I get a lot of the "Mom, where is...?" too and "Mom, can I have such and such to eat?" knowing it's not a daytime snack or that it's to be saved for the following week when groceries get low.

I could go on and on!

Got good chuckle out of your blog, Nat!

Natalie Dae said...

Hahahaha, I'd forgotten about the air horn comment.

My word, I have no idea why they ignore us parents. Just the other day, my son was RAPPING. I said: Please refrain from rapping, dear, because IT'S GETTING ON MY DAMN TITS! So what does he do?

CONTINUES RAPPING!

Eff me sideways. I swear if I had that skillet to hand...

:)

Lakisha said...

I couldn't stop laughing. I don't how old your children are but mine are both under ten.

I can completely identify. I've gotten to the point where if they ask where's my "thingy", I give them silence which then prompts a mini-tantrum as they storm off and *Gasps* find the "thingy" they were looking for.

Now, this doesn't work all the time, but I swear my youngest is an Oracle because when I can't find my "thingy", she's always the first to go, "Mommy, I know where it is." And lo and behold, a minute later she comes back with the item in all her smugness and says, "Here."

And please, sign me up for some Oracle pills.

Anny Cook said...

Well, I had the Magic Box. Every time I found something out of place it went in the Magic Box and "disappeared". The first disappearance was a week. The second disappearance was two weeks. And when it disappeared the third time, it was for good.

I'm afraid I was pretty tough. It didn't matter what the item was. If it was a clothing item, it went to Good Will. If it was a toy, it went to someone who needed a toy... and I never replaced it.

And of course, I knew EXACTLY where it was...in the Magic Box.

Natalie Dae said...

Hi Lakisha!

This oracle business is spreading. We must purchase the pills to stop the plague that is based on thingies and wotsits.

My goodness!

LOL @ your child knowing where YOUR thingies are. That's just too damn funny.

Thanks for stopping by!

:)

Natalie Dae said...

Oh, Anny, that's a really good idea!

Ok, so with all my kids...I'd need a magic ROOM!

HA HAAAA!

:)

Ruth said...

I'm still the oracle and it's for the old man who's way past grown,but entering that "second childhood" phase you here so much about.... granted he is a bit disabled,but likes to play it up enormously. Having lost half the left leg,you'd think he lost the use of both arms and his mind as well. I hear that "do you know where?" from the time I awaken until he sleeps (which lately is often at the most unlikely times) and I used the skillet 35 years ago (his father's cast iron which I now have) and it works like a charm-course the fact he smacked me cause his dad smacked him started it and I finished it.

I have 4 kids and the infant I'm married to and like Ms. Cook if it wasn't where it belonged it disappeared;they got 1 warning then it became mine to do with as I pleased...but the scary thing is like you I added something to my coffee while not really paying attention and drank it before realizing I had done so. Luckily for me it was instant hot cocoa and now in the winter it is a drink I enjoy often..LOL.

I don't want Oracle pills,I want the memory pills for myself so I can remember where I put things or if I've taken my pills or what day it is....you know just the normal everyday stuff you need to survive life with some sort of dignity.

anny cook said...

Oooooh, Ruth! I'm with you. Give me the memory pills!

And yeah, I also have an infant I'm married to. But I started putting his thingies in the Magic Box. Amazing how he's started keeping his own stuff together...

Natalie Dae said...

Oh, Ruth. I got the sense that you're weary of being the oracle. I'm so sorry for you, love. All joking aside, it isn't funny when it gets to be too much.

I hope you have some time away from your husband every so often. As his carer, I'd say you need a bit of time to yourself. It isn't any wonder you can't remember where your own thingies are. ((HUG))

I agree, hot choc and coffee together are lovely, although I don't recommend tea and gravy. Very unpleasant!

Maybe between us we'll discover a brand new drink because of our forgetfulness. Hey, we could make a fortune on tea and mustard delight, or coffee and ketchup kerzam!

Once again, I hope things get better for you. Now you go and treat yourself to a messed up drink or two! Oh, and start wielding that bloody skillet a bit more often.

:)

Natalie Dae said...

LOL Anny. I'm really going to have to try that.

:)

Regina Carlysle said...

HAHHAHAHAAAAAAAA. I'm always losing my 'thingies' but I have to find everyone else's 'thingies' first. LMAO. This is simply priceless. Like Anny's idea about a THINGY BOX. Good one.

Natalie Dae said...

Hee hee.

Thing is, I can find everyone else's thingies most of the time--I just say where they are. But my own? Jesus. I have to stand there holding my head to remember.

:)

Elizabeth Black said...

ROFLMAO!!! I remember the Oracle days. My son is 21 now and not completely helpless but he does pretend sometimes. Now I get grief from the cats, believe it or not. Lucky in particular. Ever try to type when a cat wants petting and sits on your keyboard? Or he wants the food bowl refilled. Or he nearly knocks over my wine glass. Or he's fighting with his sister and they're tearing apart the bedroom. Or he's tearing up boxes in the back room. I like it best when all of them are napping because it's QUIET. We have four cats, all related. Locking them in another room does no good. I love Lucky but he can be a little butthead sometimes. Just like having a toddler looking for his "thingee" but it's a cat toy that he's lost again.

Natalie Dae said...

Oh, Elizabeth, I can truly relate. I have 3 cats, all related, who have now been relegated to living outside. They have their own wooden house to sleep in. I can't bear them inside anymore with their cat way of asking for their thingies!

:)

Nicole Zoltack said...

LOL So this is what I have to look forward to once my boys learn how to talk in complete sentences? Lovely! Although I can't wait to melt when I first hear, "I love you, mommy."

J.Rose Allister said...

LOL Boy, doesn't that just sound like a typical writing day at my house! This is one of the reasons I've taken to writing in the dead of night, where neither child nor spouse (usually) will interrupt the flow of the muse. I might need to ask Santa for a case of EFFOFF for Christmas this year. heh.

Natalie Dae said...

Yes, Nicole, you've got it coming, love!

Aww, yes. It's lovely when you hear them tell you they love you for the first time. Blurry-eyed moment!

:)

Natalie Dae said...

Hi J. Rose!

Hahahaha @ asking Santa. If EffOff has run outof stock by then--surely it must!--ask for Starflower oil capsules or St. John's Wort. They work just as well. A nice calming effect.

:)

Madison Scott said...

Man, I can't tell you how often I get asked the same thing over and over. I always am telling my kids I don't know everything!

Natalie Dae said...

They won't believe you, Madison!

:)