Fetching kids from school has it’s joyful moments, but for the most part they are filled with screaming, arguing, kids slapping each other, Georgia telling me about Princess Dark Pink, and me trying really hard to turn the radio up and listen to the news.
By the time I get home my nerves are frayed. I am not wanting a drink, so much feeling an overriding urge to throw back 3 Zolofts and drink wine through a straw.
Today was no different. It usually starts before I have even got out the parking lot at the school.
The drive home is not long. But it feels excruciating and eventually everyone is screaming and I have lost the will to live. I no longer scream and tell them to be quiet.
The will to fight has left me. They know it. I know it. The people sitting in their cars adjacent to me at the traffic lights know it.
I just sit there staring dully ahead, and watching my knuckles get whiter on the steering wheel. The voices in my head keep saying – in unison “you just need to make it home, you just need to make it home ….. with everyone alive …..”
We got home today. I thought, what if they got out the car, carried on fighting, and I just closed the door and remained in the car.
So I did that.
They were so busy beating the crap out of each other, they did not notice me. I closed the doors, and then I just sat in the car.
I could hear my heart beating. I could hear that tick-tick-tick sound the car engine makes as it cools.
It was bliss. It was heaven.
I kept thinking of that jingle from the kids show “just 5 minutes more….”
It was lovely. My life has come down to this where I class happiness as sitting in a car by myself. Yes. Yes. This is where I am. I bit you sit there and titter, and make fun of me. Well, chicken, your turn will come. Sooner or later.
Then the two girls found me. They brought the dog. They closed the car door. Me. Two screaming girls. And a dog in the car. Not so much peaceful. Georgia was talking. Dexter was going “hhhhhhh” or what ever sound he makes. I have no idea what Isabelle was saying.
I thought I would stick it out and maybe they would go back inside and leave me alone. It could happen. In a parallel universe.
Isabelle tripped over the gear stick, and somehow got her body wedged between the handbrake and the steering wheel.
I knew it was time to end watching the YouTube video on Britain’s Got Talent and face the evening.