Nature Boy (the 12 year old) said to me the other morning, “Oh Mom, I forgot to tell you, today is Career Day at school.”

So I did what any Stay at Home Mom/Writer/Blogger would do.

I put my coffee cup down, turned off the news, got up off the couch, and started gathering supplies. I picked up someone’s dirty socks off the floor, grabbed my laptop, and then headed to the kitchen for a scouring pad, a frying pan, a fire extinguisher, and a first aid kit.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Well you obviously want me to come to Career Day to speak to your friends about my job, so I’m gathering visual aids.”

The look.

Oh dear God in Heaven, the look of terror on this child’s face…you would have thought I had just ordered him to go to school naked, pedaling a tricycle.

“No Mom. That’s not why I’m telling you. I just need you to sign my permission slip.”

“You don’t want me to speak to your class?”

“No thanks.”

Oh crap. Cue the PTSD flashback about that time I overheard my daughter saying “When I grow up, I’m going to have a real job, not like Mommy.”

Wow.

My kids clearly have no idea that I quit a lucrative job ten years ago for the express purpose of being at home with them. And now here I am, with three kids, the paltry remnants of a long neglected 401K, a ten year gap on my resume, and a very clear message that I’m not invited to Career Day.

Move over, Self-Pity; it’s Rage’s turn to talk.

“Why not? My job is important. My job is interesting. I’m successful at what I do, you know.”

“It’s not that, Mom.”

condescending willy wonka on blogging

“I was just in The Huffington Freaking Post, dude. And so were you! They quoted us both, remember?”

“Mo-ooooooooooooom. All the Career Day speakers are already lined up. It’s too late to get on the schedule.”

“Well, ask me earlier next time, Hon. I’d love to talk to your class about my job. There are so many cool things I could discuss!”

“Really.” (Sarcasm?! He knows sarcasm?! Well played, my boy, well played.)

“Uh-YUH! Like how to remove stains, reduce photo size for faster webpage loading, cut brownies perfectly, code with HTML, auger a toilet, boost SEO, get kids to school on time, use social media for marketing, erase water marks from coffee tables, install WordPress plugins, remove a tick, burn a blog feed, finger whistle, vlog, manage a household budget, build your brand, dress a wound, understand and comply with FTC regulations, ooh – my raw kale salad recipe!….”

“Mom. I have to go. Maybe next year. Okay?”

“Well, what parent presentations have you signed up to attend?”

“Cooking and Insurance.”

“Excuse me?” (Did he just say what I think he said?)

“I said Cooking and Insurance. There’s going to be a real restaurant chef there and also a former college football player who now sells insurance.”

“THOSE ARE THE CAREERS THAT INTEREST YOU? Are. You. Frickin. Kidding. Me?”

“Mom. I have to go.”

“I was expecting you to say Paleontologist or Criminologist or Film Director.”

“MOM. I’m going to miss the bus.”

“Do you even know what I do all day? Shoot, honey, I can teach you how to cook, for Pete’s sake. Do you want to see our insurance policies after school? Geez, I had no idea you were so interested in those things.”

“Mom.”

“Hold up. You think selling insurance is more interesting than running a household, raising children, and writing comedy? I feel like I don’t even know you.”

“Mom, I have to go. Can we talk about it after school?”

“Okay. Fine. Have fun learning about those exciting careers.”

“I love you Mom. Have a good day. Oh Mom? I’m out of socks. Can you please do my laundry today?”

“We’ll see. I’m live Tweeting the Dr. Oz show. He’s doing a whole episode about gynecological mysteries and I can’t miss it.”

(There’s that look again.)

Oh snap.

*****

This one’s for all the hard working mothers and bloggers out there who never get asked to speak at Career Day. Fuck that fucking shit.


Source: Know Your Meme