I’m Changing My Name From MOM to DAD

I swear there is a radar installed in my ass that sounds an alarm whenever I’m out of sight from my kids. In fact, the pitch is detectable by dogs and children, exclusively.

At birth my sons had small, indiscernible sensors, imbedded somewhere under their skin. And thanks to my great luck, they were updated with the deluxe sensor that has a location sensitivity setting, designed to send a pulse of panic through their bodies whenever I’m using the toilet or taking a shower.

However, my husband was, ever so fortunately, excluded from the radar enhancement. I can walk out of the room and within moments, my kids will holler for me, even when their dad is a foot away. The lucky bastard is totally oblivious and immune from the absurdity. Besides the fact that he has positioned himself as the most incapable human on the planet, to avoid anyone asking him to make a damn grilled cheese sandwich.

We recently went camping and one afternoon we were outside enjoying the view, watching the sun set, building a fire etc… I walked into our camper to use the bathroom and before my ass hit the toilet seat, my kids were in the camper frantically yelling my name as though I’d gone missing for hours. They suddenly, had to have snacks and drinks, which of course they could not find.

I’m beginning to believe my husband sends them after me. Maybe he too, has the separation fear?

And at home, I can be in the kitchen cooking, feeding them, and doing dishes for an hour. Then, the minute I sit down, they will ask for something. Who does that? They even have the nerve to act as though it’s the end of the world if I don’t respond immediately.

Well, this mom is too smart for this abuse. This is the twenty-first century, we can land space probes on comets for God’s sake! Certainly there is a device to override the ass radar. Until I find it, I’m changing my name to Dad.