What You Wish For

Posted: Tuesday, March 22, 2011 in Uncategorized

Once upon a time, I wanted to live in the middle of no where. No thing for miles but wilderness.  I wanted to get away from the crush of people moving to northern tip of  New Jersey.

I remember thinking ” How wonderful the solitude would be.”

I needed it at the time, I guess.  I had gone into my most intense social shutdown to date and had to “reboot”. Not that I was every really good at being an outgoing and friendly person. It was a lot of work for me and I have never been good at the work thing either.

But anyway….

I got what I wanted. I am surrounded by miles and miles of farms and fields and trees. And mud.

Yes. Mud.

It’s everywhere. The roads are mud. My driveway is mud. My yard is mud. Hell I even found some in Kierans bed the other night.

Yes, I am sure it was mud.

When I go out, I always look like I don’t do laundry. The bottom of my jeans get muddy walking to the truck. I get a nice healthy schmear on my thigh climbing in the truck to buckle up the kids. Then, of course,  at least one little “angel” puts a foot print on my chest, stomach and/or back. Whatever is handy I guess.  And let’s not forget that some how I get my butt dirty sliding out of the truck.

I tried jumping out. Have you ever jumped into mud from 2 feet in the air? It does not end well.

Once I get home from my excursion (because when you live 20 miles from anything that’s what it is). I have to do the whole thing over again getting bodies out of the truck.

Then we all track my into the house. And I have to say that the only smart thing my landlord has ever done was choose carpet the color of a light and sweet coffee. Or in my case, the color of dried mud.

My kids love the mud. It’s squishy and wet and tastes delicious. Kids should play in the mud. Preferably without eating it.

But I on the other hand, do not. I like being clean. And not having to add to my already endless pile of laundry.

That means more trips, through the mud, to the dryer in the shed. Creating more laundry.

And I want to wear heels again. Not just any heels but something like these

There is a name for this type of shoe

Which is the reason for this entire post.

  1. Amy says:

    Oh. Em. Gee. I love those shoes. I want them in black.

    And red.

    And suede.

    And black suede.

    And red suede.

    Oh, and I HATE fucking mud.

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