Pigpen

***Originally posted July 2019 on BLC a collaborative blog that is no longer being contributed to.***
I am worried that readers are going to think that the tales I tell of Tember and myself are made up. I could not make this up if I tried to. I have started to keep a folder of the words that come out of my son’s mouth. I have to there are too many funnies uttered.
I am not quite sure as to how to address this. I am hoping that I am not going to offend anyone and if I do, I apologize. We are agnostic. Tember finds it very bizarre that his friends have to spend a couple of hours on Sundays listening to stories. The city we live in was founded by a religious group and is still very strongly Christian based. I do not go around discussing what beliefs we hold and am tolerant of those around me who do believe. Which is everyone I work with in my department.
On the second last day of school driving along when Tember starts to giggle. I look over as I come to a stop.
‘Mom a bug just flew right into my hand. Not that that is unusual.’
‘What do you mean buddy? That you are ugly?’
Yes right there, mother of the year award has been revoked. Tember was staring at me. My mouth was hanging open and my mind was whirring. What the heck?
‘So now I know how you really feel about me mom.’
‘I did not mean to say that buddy. Honestly. I meant to say icky. Icky. The bug flew into your hand because you are icky.’
Horrified. Yes. Laughing so hard I was wiping away tears. Yes. Tember is picking away at me. Now that he knows how I really feel. Have I always thought that he was ugly? Even as a baby? My laughter was contagious and Tember was laughing just as hard.
‘Wait until I tell my friends that my mom called me ugly. Really mom I am never going to be able to believe anything you ever say again.’
‘Buddy I am so sorry. I meant icky. Because you never shower so you are icky and stinky. Bugs Like you. I promise Tember. I am so sorry. Honest to god.
(under my breath) the one we don’t really believe in.’
‘Well that is it mom now I know that I can never trust you.’
‘That right there buddy is a good one.’
 
I dropped him off at school and chuckled all the way to work. The come back……I was impressed with him. He was witty. I thought it was hilarious. However the people I work with did not find it as funny as I did. Which lead me to think that I am very tolerant at work. There are bible quotes in the lunchroom. Conversations. A couple of bibles. Not everyone I work with is Christian but as I have said at least 90% are. I was pfft’d a few times. Finally I stopped telling the story that only I found funny. Given my fear that I was being an idiot and that everyone was going to be offended, I told the girl friends. Who all thought it was hilarious. Told me I had to write about it. So I am.
By the time Tember got home he had forgotten that I had called him ugly. He had new and better stories to share with me. Most of them are icky. Not ugly but icky. I knew that it was going to be bad but what I discovered the other day out ickies all of the ickies. A new species of mould. I have named it Temberitine Moldious. A long sinewy body. Like an eel. And slimy. And I had to touch it. I will get there though.
I was busy doing the dishes and finally caved. I could no longer ignore the plates and cups that he had been stockpiling. I gathered together what I could carry. Plates stacked. A few cups. Deposit beside the sink. Go back. This is where the horror begins.
I grab a plate and realize that there is a peach on there. Covered in mould. I retched. Walked into the kitchen holding it far in front of me. Gagging. I was making horrific noises. A rhino snorting at its enemies maybe. I returned. Weakened by my first meeting of this new breed of mould. I nearly died. There were cups that had swimming eels. There was a plate with mould growing on it. I was retching. Dumped everything into the sink and turned away hot water running into the cups and bowls. When I dumped one of the cups that is when the eel appeared. Like a skim on the top of a pond. As nasty as  that when you touch it. I did. With my bare hand.
I flew across the room to the bathroom. Came back grabbed paper towel and disposed of this eel. I did throw away a cup and a bowl. Tember is with his dad this week so he will only be arriving late in the evening. Next week when he comes back that room is going to be scrubbed from top to bottom before he does anything else. There is now a new rule no cups or bowls or plates in his room. I cannot deal. At least I have him putting his clothes in the laundry basket and it makes its way to the bathroom. Next up he will be learning to clean his room thoroughly.
Tember logic:
I had gone into his room to get the block to charge my Kindle. Could not find it. Pulled up a pillow and was showered with crumbs. Grumbled and left the room. 
When we get home that evening:
‘Tember where is the block?’
‘In my room. On my bed.’
‘I couldn’t find it. Can you get it for me.’
‘Mom were you in my room?’
‘Yeah why?’
‘Why did you move my pillow? It is there to keep the crumbs from getting on my bed. Well now you have to clean this up.’
‘What?’
‘You got the crumbs on the bed. You moved the pillow. You have to clean it up.’
I was hanging onto the counter laughing so hard. Tears. Tember was so mad at me. 
Never did clean up the crumbs. I am pretty sure he slept in them.
ICKY
July 2/19
***Picture is via Pinterest

Author: Jay-lyn Doerksen

I am a single hard working mom in her 40's. I have always written poetry and I love words. I live with depression and its ups downs. This is a space where I can create and write all that I need to.

3 thoughts on “Pigpen”

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