Thursday, January 20, 2005

Here Comes the Judge

The Judge was back again this morning.

Smartmom ignored the alarm at 6 a.m. sleeping right through until 7:30. "Shit," she said aloud to no-one. "We're late." Then she remembered that she had promised Teen Spirit pancakes. "Oh God," she sighed.

Smartmom went into the kitchen and took the brand new box of Aunt Jamima Complete Pancake Mix out of the cupboard. In her entire life she has never once used Aunt Jamima Complete - she has always used Original, the mix that requires an egg, milk and shortening - it has the remote aura of homemade. However, yesterday at the store, Smartmom couldn't reach the original box and had to settle for Complete.

And like an unwanted pantry moth, The Judge joined Smartmom in the kitchen: "Why'd you buy that? It's probably not as good as the other mix. Couldn't you have asked someone to reach the Original."

"Out of my way, Asshole," Smartmom barked as she prepared to laddle the pancake mix into the cast iron pan. She screamed toward the back bedrooms: "Get up everyone, we're late! Get up!"

At this point The Judge began to laugh. "I thought I told you yesterday that an earlier wake up would --" Smartmom didn't let him finish his sentence. "I heard what you said you arrogant fatso. Get out of my kitchen!"

As Teen Spirit and OSFO slowly dawdled and dressed, the first batch of pancakes stuck to the pan when Smartmom tried to spatula them up. Smartmom grabbed the box and realized that the Complete mix requires grease on the griddle (while Original requires none). The Judge sauntered in once again: "It's a good idea to read the instructions when you're doing something new." Smartmom scowled at the old bastard and scraped the screwed up pancakes off the pan and tossed them in the trash. She found another pan on the pot rack and poured a tiny bit of oil on the pan praying that she wouldn't have deep fried pancakes.

Hepcat took over the pancake cooking while Smartmom urged her offspring to move their buttocks. Teen Spirit feigned illness on the green couch while OSFO discovered her old Hamtaro plastic figures and started building a small boat for them (don't ask why).

Teen Spirit enjoyed the morning's hot breakfast - though it was lukewarm by the time he finally sat down to eat it. "You coulda heated them up in the microwave and let the boy experience a warm breakfast for once," The Judge whispered angrily when no-one was looking. OSFO shovelled Raisin Bran into her mouth, continuing to play with her Hamtaro figureines. "You really spend too much money on crap for that girl, you know," the Judge added and was on his way.

When Smartmom and OSFO got to the school, the officious Assistant Principal was at his special desk giving out late passes - a line of about 20 kids snaked out the front door. OSFO seemed non-plussed. Truth is, who cares if you're late in second grade, thought Smartmom. "But that's not the point," The Judge said reading Smartmom's mind. And there he was standing next to the Assistant Principal, a kindred spirit no doubt, giving out late passes to the first and second graders.


At 3:24 PM, Blogger Helen_of_Sparta said...

Wait, is The Judge a real person? If so, why was he in your kitchen? Sorry for my ignorance, but I am confused...:-)
~ Lydia

At 3:38 PM, Blogger elswhere said...

Hey Smartmom-- way to tell that Judge off!

Many thanks for your kind comment on my blog--it means a lot coming from a writer. I am definitely thinking about it...

At 5:29 PM, Blogger jonesy said...

Amazing how The Judge is part of a time continuum that we will never be invited to. I could've swore that The Judge was at my kid's school this morning as I made my son snarf down a breakfast bar and chug a Sunny D before we typed in our security code to open the door. Could've swore The Judge had manifested into another school mother who snottily quipped to another school mother as they exited their $60k SUV's that have never seen 4wheel drive, "how sad that she doesn't even cook him breakfast".

One day I will invite them over to cook my son breakfast. Assuming the hour - hour 1/2 commute to the base of the appalachians doesn't take too much out of them. Then they can cook on a gas stove (which nomatter what I cook or how I cook it is always undercooked on top and black on the bottom)at 5:30 am - because that's what time we would have to eat in order to get everything else done. Which includes the 30 min of "alone, wake time" that my son requires. Then maybe they will have to face the decsion of driving another hour to make sure your kid gets a good education. And then go to work.

Eesh. Suddenly I sounded like The Judge on the flip side.

Anyway, SM thanks for the support on the new era functionality of the disfunctional family. It means more than you'll ever know. I somehow can only picture you with a cape. You are a hero to someone.

At 4:38 AM, Blogger brooklynfox said...

" I somehow can only picture you with a cape. "

SM, this is by far my favorite comment since you started this blog. What an incredible compliment and SO VERY TRUE. Jonesy, she should wear a cape! Smartmom is an amazing person. SM, you've really made an impact with your writing. xxooRFJ

At 10:16 AM, Blogger krenneke said...

What a lovely blog! I enjoyed it so much...
Ok, another blog bookmarked, like I don't have enough in the package ;)

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