Where does time go? I’ve turned around and its been a whole month since I last blogged.
In all fairness I have been thinking about blogs to write, flirting with poignant topics relevant to all of us battling a life crisis sandwich. For the uninitiated (and that would be most of you because I just made
picture from vaboomer.com
this up), a life crisis sandwich is the meal that comes from that special place where mid-life crisis meets teenage angst. And this past month has been spent dealing with that special place. I am not sure whether in this house, the adults have regressed or the teens have progressed, but whatever the case we are all dealing with change and questions. I think God must truly have a wicked sense of humour to coincide my offspring’s teenage years when they are questioning the meaning of life and their own existence with the very point at which their parents are doing the same. Two thumbs up there. May we all survive this test to reach what comes after the life crisis sandwich, namely the post apocalyptic fudge brownie.
At this stage, the fudge brownie remains just off into the distance. I can see it, sort of, if I squint long and hard enough and can almost smell it. Only a few more bites of the life crisis sandwich to go. My commiseration to all of you also experiencing the joys of the life crisis sandwich. I hope you now know you are not alone.
This gives you an idea of what I have been up to in the last month and why I haven’t blogged. Also good manners, because I would never blog with my mouth full, even if it’s just a no calorie life crisis sandwich.
All of this is a long-winded way of saying I really wanted my first post back to be poignant, but instead, dear readers, you are going to get this.
Over the past few months I have been accosted in my own home on several occasions. Not only me, but other members of my family have been similarly accosted. Every time it happens we reinforce that we need to be wary, keep our guard up and not let it take us by surprise. And we fail every time.
I see it perched up high on the picture rail or sometimes, just to keep us guessing, sitting on the side board. Watching, waiting, ready to pounce. Light blinking, nozzle pointed, waiting to expel its deadly gas. The minute a body comes into view, nay even before that, the minute the air pressure changes to indicate a moving being, it aims, shoots and scores. A menace to all unsuspecting wanderers, its activities are not confined to nocturnal maneuvers. Night or day, it is on high alert waiting for its next victim. With a pfft and a click you know you have been hit even before the odour reaches you. Its stated aim is to release air freshener, but this is just propaganda. Its real objective is to startle the living daylights out of you, especially at night.
This little device is the SWAT team of odour prevention. There is no shield thick enough, no night vision strong enough to defeat it. You would think it would be a fair fight, six feet of human vs one foot of motion sensor air freshener, but this fight is neither fair nor foul. In fact it takes place in a haze of Lilly of the Valley and with an innocent demeanor. Flying below the radar, it infiltrated my home without my permission, having snuck into the Itallian Stallion’s bag.
But I’m now onto this trespasser. After being accosted at 3.30am the other night, I have decided to deactivate the little bastard. Indeed, at 3.30am with a stuffy nose and a throbbing head to have a useless invention for the “genteel” accost me on a headache tablet mercy dash is entirely beyond the pale. Clearly, there is much use for a fine spray of Lilly of the Valley with a head cold (not).
And lest you think my stealth skills are substandard, my strapping sons have also been accosted from on high. Like a swooping magpie protecting its nest in Spring, the air freshener rains on their heads at the first hint of movement. Perhaps this is not a bad thing with teenage boys, but I’d hate to have them invite their friends over only to be sprayed. That would make them feel real welcome.
So the time has come to reclaim my corridors. No more Lilly of the Valley, not more pfft that goes bump in the night. I’m reclaiming my right of peaceful passage without a treaty of surrender.
One last pfft for man, one giant leap for mankind (at least those in this house).
Have you ever been accosted by a device in your own home? Is there any device that you would really like to banish?
Deactivated!
Raising the Curtain 
I have an air freshener in my den that pffffts it’s scent every 28 minutes. I don’t always have it on, but when I do, it never fails to startle the life out of me. Seems to coincide nicely with the scenes of my killer so my nerves are already tweaked. But I do love its baby powder scent…
I have a post centered a bit on my teens tomorrow as well. It is an interesting stage of parenting, isn’t it? 🙂
Looking forward to your post tomorrow. Us mothers of boys need to stick together, so I wait your wisdom 🙂 28 minutes must be the universal air freshener pffft interval. Ours is also set to that unless some night stalker like me sets it off within cycle. I can see how it would assist with the writing of your horror scenes. Could be a whole new market there if you got the horror scent to match.
Haha–the scented novel. Hmm, not so sure I want to go there. 😉
Well, at least you did not need to apply perfume in those mornings. I have missed your musings, yet I must confess my favorite line above is “I think God must truly have a wicked sense of humour to coincide my offspring’s teenage years when they are questioning the meaning of life and their own existence with the very point at which their parents are doing the same.” I think we all are in a continual state of reinvention at some level. G’Day Mate, BTG
I believe reinvention is firmly necessary, but does it have to be such a wrenching process? What ever happened to nice bite sized increments. I’m actually quite excited by this period, I think I’ve worked most of my stuff out. It’s standing back and knowing that your kids need to go through their own process is the hard part. Thanks for the wonderful feedback. I will try and not let my musings disappoint :).
Judy, you are so right on the “hard part.” When I see my kids making a decision that I know may not turn out the way they hope it is hard. We parents can counsel, but at some point, we have to back away and let them experience it. All the best, BTG
Nice to have you back. Oh my. I don’t know anything about raising boys and it’s been a long time since I’ve had teenagers in the house–but coming soon again. That pfft would scare the living daylights out of me. Glad to hear you’re in charge again. 😀
Girls and boys really are different. Boys will only ever do things at the last minute, being so economical with their time. Anyway, just taking it one day at time. And yes, by liberating taking back my corridors. Today the air freshness, tomorrow the world! Nyah, ha, ha.
🙂
It’s been a month. My time goes too quickly. Months have become like weeks and weeks turn into days. One day is here and then I’m suddenly in the midst of the next.
I can’t think of any devices in our home that have accosted me recently. We used to set off the burglar alarm sometimes by accident or it would just go off by itself, but we’ve disconnected that. $90 a month was costing us more than any burglar would have gotten out of our house.
Lee
Wrote By Rote
Love the cost/benefit analysis, Lee. Time certainly has a habit of speeding up when we aren’t looking. It’s funny how it always does the opposite of what we wish for. The only other device which accosts me in my house is the plastic owl scarecrow thingy I bought my hubby for a gag gift one Christmas. It has huge bug eyes and a head on springs that bobs with the wind. Except that hubby insists on keeping it inside so it sits on our picture rail staring at us. You never know when a pesky bird might fly in the house, but whenever that may be the owl is ready.
Welcome back, was thinking over the weekend where you had gone. This is hilarious though I feel your pain from the mid life to the pffting f…. air freshener. I have passed the life crisis sandwich and the post apocalyptic fudge brownie is in the distance too. I do love posts like this – that don’t – sharing life – sharing pieces that others experience. Sometimes posts can give me a bloody headache trying to understand or deal with the topics. So I say write on like (or right on) this 😉 I don’t have anything in the home that accosts me, apart from leaving the dishwasher door open and digging my shin into it at times 😦 xx
Thanks for this wonderful comment, Rambly. Your thoughts about writing about this topic echoes a conversation with a blogger friend on the weekend. She was asking why I hadn’t blogged in a while and I told her about the life crisis sandwich and not being inspired to blog. She exclaimed that I was staring squarely down the barrel of a whole lot of interesting material. I told her I wasn’t sure about that, but maybe you are both right. I think my blogging sweet spot is taking serious issues and giving them a humorous twist. Anyway, thanks. Dishwasher doors and shins definitely don’t mix.
You are welcome lovely. I enjoyed the read very much – who knows a whole new avenue could be opening here (ok I am tired and that probably does not make a great deal of sense) Good luck hun – I know you have it in you 🙂 x
As shucks, you say the dardendest things, Jen :)x Thanks mate, I always appreciate your words.
I’m just a true blue hun – tell it like it is and be respectful while you’re at it 🙂 xx
In our office I can sometimes hear a sound – like wire being cut. But I am not able to identify the cuprit 🙂
… should be culprit …
Welcome to the Twilight Zone, doo, doo, doo :). Hope you find both the culprit and the cuprit
Love the metaphor of the life crisis sandwich and trust you and yours will survive without being chomped on too badly. It’s times like these when what might otherwise be small irritations, easily handled, bloom out of control and become pffffft monsters in the nighttime. Nicely handled.
Nice comment with a psychological slant. I think the head cold tipped me over the pfffft edge. A startle without the smell changes one’s perspective 🙂
why is it that we pass these things in the store and they beckon us to buy them. We think they will be a wonderful idea, a great way to make our home warm and cheery and smelling wonderfu, and then we put them in a room. They attack us with a cloud of scent and we wonder what in the world we were thinking, right? Great post. At least yours is lily of the valley, I was suckered into hawaiian paradise… makes my throat tighten at just the thought of it.
Hawaiian paradise? We haven’t been lucky enough for that to yet grace our shores. In our quest to automate, we have definitely lost something called tranquility.
too true!!
Very funny. And thanks for the warning, should I ever be tempted to buy one of these “little bastards.”
Thank you. Consider it a community service. Too many good mothers have been lost to these beasties already 🙂