La Casa Loco

1. But it’s true. Maus POOPED in the kids’ room. She hates them. Jumps at their voices and looks at me reprovingly when they’re around. She also POOPED in their bathtub. If they’re home, she hides and only slinks out when they’re gone. She’s been trying to get my attention. Climbs to the tops of curtains and hurls herself off. Hangs from the furniture in this totally depressed way. The other day she even tied herself to the fan and kicked the chair out from under her.

2. Aaron is crying. I made them clean their room. This is not why Aaron is crying. Aaron is crying because I told them they could go upstairs and play. ‘What’s the matter?’ I ask him. ‘But if we play, it’ll get messy. And we’ll have to clean it all up again!!’ He’s sobbing. I’m not surprised. These are the things that upset his whole universe. This is the Aaron who wailed when he was told to wear his new shoes (‘but they’ll get DIRTY!!!’), the Aaron who burst into tears when he had to stop to zip up his bag (it’s a waste of TIME!!), who screams when the cat scares him (sits there).

But looking at him, I totally get this exhaustion. The endless parade of plates to be washed, clothes to be folded. Why do we bother with any of it.

‘Well, that’s how it goes, honey.’ And I almost bawl because it’s so true.

He’s inconsolable and, right now, is sitting up there playing with a brown paper shopping bag.

3. Kan only looks at herself. That’s all she wants to do. She’d gaze at her
balloon reflection in a spoon before making eye contact with you. Her teacher showed me this book the class made. A compilation of little autobiographies. Kan’s was a love letter to herself. ‘She’s confident,’ she says meaningfully. A cautious smile.


4. I bought a scarecrow. It’s out there right now. You could drive by and see it. There, next to the pumpkins. Looking festive. You don’t have to tell me. What’s next? Holiday towels? Fucking cringe. But anything’s possible.


Still waiting for a better word than ‘poop’ to use in the following sentence: The cat pooped in the kids’ room. For the record, I have never used ‘pooped’ for tired. Jesus Christ, let’s not get crazy.

Also, I learned that voice from you. Which is what you use when you’re trying to strong-arm someone into doing something that they absolutely do not ever want to do—i.e. me into going to Charleston, a boyfriend into a 5am jog. And now, you’re/she (God, I don’t even know who I’m talking to anymore) doing this thing where you hang up on me. All. The. Time. I start a story. You hang up. It’s abusive. Your sister didn’t call you. You hung up on me to answer her call and look what happened. Morgans! Break it down!!!