Getting off The Couch

April 14th, 2012 8:30pm

Well we've been in the house all day on this Saturday. The kids have all the youth and enthusiasm that has drained out of me. It makes me so tired watching them I can't move from the couch. The only thing that motivates me to get up from my slumber other then their sudden quietness while their outside is the smell of their poopy diaper when they jump on me. In which they seem to poop every other hour. That smell can motivate anyone to get off their ass no matter how crappy (no pun intended) you feel.

At around 4:00pm they both fell asleep. As usual Christopher in my right arm. Nico in my left arm and I am pinned down. It's okay though. I'm tired and I ain't moving either. I think I'll just lay here and sleep too. The house is so quite other then the sounds of nature blowing in with the breeze from the back door I left open. Greenpeace would be happy because I turned off the air conditioner earlier in the day.

I laid there and as I heard the rush of the wind coming in through the open door. Seconds later I'd feel the breeze hit my toes. Roll up my body and cool my face. Don't you just love that? The old exercise machine I'm using as a door prop is clanging with every breeze. It's not annoying. It's almost reminiscent of the pool filter flap opening and closing as the water is pushed into it. It was almost meditation like as I fell asleep.

I have a dream. I don't remember all of it but it was a normal life. Something that I use to know up to about a month a go before the death of my wife. And then the sudden stench of reality woke me, literary. My youngest son baby rolled over into my face and of course he crapped. It must have been the other hour of the every other hour crap. I woke up immediately.

I sat on the couch surveying the damage of the day gone past. "Is this messy chaos what Mimie dealt with daily?"

In a rush of motivation I decided to get the kids ready to go eat. I didn't want to waste the sudden urge before it drained from my body so a sprang into action. I got the boys changed and strapped in their car seats. I ran inside and decided to take care of myself real quick. I put on clean clothes. Actually, I just put a clean shirt over my white tank top, gym shorts and sandals on. I cleaned my new tattoo and decided to put on deodorant. I finally brushed my teeth. I have to admit I have beautiful teeth. Nice and white and a great smile. So it was a shock to me when I saw a little blood around my gums while I brushed them. "Fuck, has it been that long since I brushed my teeth?" Off we went to Chick- Fil-A.

On my way there I saw that my company picnic was still going on three hours after it started. I was invited to go but decided not to only because I didn't want people to give me pity stares. When I saw that their was people still there I had decided to stop so the boys can burn off some energy and maybe sleep later.

It was at a city park and they had a large inflatable slide. Thankfully most of the people were gone from the picnic and the boys played a little outdoors free from the confines of their backyard. It wasn't that I felt awkward while I was there. I didn't because I knew almost everyone that was left. It was good to see people that I knew and maybe a little sympathy was good. I was just standing around when I saw a lady staring a me. She just stared for a good 30 seconds. I didn't recognize her but I could tell she wanted to approach me. So I gave her the "it's okay come over look" and she did not hesitate to come talk to me.

"Hi Chris", she said in an almost apologetic tone.

"Hi", I said with a curious look. I acted as if i knew her all my life. It was a company picnic I'm sure I knew her in some way.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry to hear the loss of your wife", she said giving me puppy dog stare.

"Yes, thank you. It's been difficult" I told her. It's a common phrase I have been using and would be better off pinning it to my body like the Scarlett Letter.

"Your kids. I feel so bad" she told me her eyes welling up. "What will you do?"

"I'm not sure" I slowly said gazing beyond her into no mans land. "God, get me out of here" I thought.

Everyone means well but I can tell people don't know exactly what to say to me. I wish I could get a new job. We left the picnic when I realized I had free will and didn't need to ask God to get me out of this picnic.

I finally made it to Chick-Fil-A and it was a disaster. No longer do I break down and lose my composure when things go horridly wrong. I just depress myself further into my self loathing. I cry for no reason at other times though when I'm alone and not in public, at least I think I don't cry in public. I'll keep you posted.

When I sat down I thought the boys would play in the indoor playground. Fail. They played in the foyer of the restaurant, the doors between the exit and the seating area. They were opening and closing the inner door. They were so preoccupied with it that I didn't say a word even though I probably should have. Their preoccupation allowed me to at least eat my meal and grant me a little peace. The boys would run out pf the playground they'd open the door close the door. Eat. Drink. Annoy people and I just sat there.

They were having so much fun in the restaurant foyer that they recruited other kids from the indoor playground to come along and play to the dismay of the other parents. One woman who had to be the grandmother of the boys recruited by my kids came running up scolding them in front of me.

She said," that's not the playground that's the restaurant entry. WE DON'T PLAY IN THERE." Very sternly to her 2 little boys and loud enough for me to hear.

"Are those her grand kids?" Is what I thought to myself as I ate my chicken nugget."They look nothing like her." I knew she wanted me to hear her because she was annoyed with my boys.

I deliberately ate the nugget slow and gazed in her direction.

First I nibbled the front of the golden brown crispy crust surrounding the chicken. I did not blink an eye. Then I took another bite exposing the white of the supposedly 100% white meat. I looked deeper into her eyes until I felt uncomfortable for the both of us. I blinked first and looked away feeling a little ashamed that my boys were playing there in the foyer and not in the indoor playground.

The boys were hectic and I still wasn't ready to venture from my home. I got us a milkshake thinking that would calm things down but it didn't. They both shared it until the lid popped off and it spilled to the ground. They ran off. I was embarrassed so instead of watching them I grabbed a bunch of napkins off the table to clean up the little bit of ice cream that got on the ground.

As I was on my knees in the restaurant soaking up the liquid I saw my boys run for the double exit door. I stopped everything I was doing and chased them down catching them as they caught the first fresh air of the outside world. I turned to place my foot in the door to stop it from closing and locking us out. Too late. I was fed up and tired. I walked around the entire building with them in tow to go back inside to clean up my mess. As I got inside they staff was already cleaning.

The girl asked me if I wanted the rest of the milkshake. I reluctantly said yes since we hardly drank any of it and there was a lot left. I picked both boys up one in each arm and carried them to the van. I tried holding the milkshake cup away from them but it some how got squeezed between Nico, Christopher and me, popping the bottom open and dumping the rest of the shake all over me.

I was just done. DONE. I stood there in the middle of the parking lot. Both kids still in arms. I was so frustrated. I walked awkwardly with a waddle like a duck holding the boys away from my body. Pay back for my comment about the Cracker Barrel hostess the other day I'm sure.

When I was close enough to the van I dropped the boys inside, thank God for automatic doors. I then threw the Styrofoam cup in the bushes as hard as I could in frustration. Pissing off environmentalists everywhere I am sure.

The chocolate milkshake slowly slid like a slug down the front of shirt, onto my shorts, slid down my leg and through my open toe sandals getting caught up in between my toes like a strainer. I'm done. I should have stayed home but I had to try. I think I had to try. Going back to the couch.


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Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

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