It’s been a long time since I’ve been next to normal. My other half waltzed in with one shoe and sock on and the other one off. Doesn’t that make you lopsided? Next to normal I’ll never be.
I opened the refrigerator and saw one lone mushroom all by itself in a container twenty times its size. Without a cover, no less. I opened the freezer and discovered the mischieveous marshmallows. My husband suffers from episodes of “shoving and closing.” The only prerequisite is that the item fits and doesn’t fall out before he shuts the cupboard or door. Next to normal I’ll never be.
The night before last we took the grandkids to see the local neighborhood all aglow with lights. The town has a trolley and for a $5 charge trolls the neighborhood for spectacular seasonal light displays. But Couponman had a better idea. We saved the $20, and stalked the trolley. My husband wondered why no one else had thought of his brilliant plan. After forty five minutes of going five miles an hour and all the exhaust you could eat for free, I knew why. Next to normal I’ll never be.
It seemed only too apropos that we would have tickets to see the Tony winning musical Next to Normal. The pointed (and course) lyrics in the verses of the opening song said it all…
They’re the perfect loving family, so adoring
And I love them every day of every week
So my son’s a little shit, my husband’s boring
And my daughter is a genius and a freak
We all cherish one another
Father mother sister brother
Cheek to cheek
So I do my best to make it all look easy
Just to keep my lovely family off my back
And I act like life is right and life is breezy
And pretend like they’re not seriously whack
And some days I think I’m dying
But I’m really only trying not to crack
When it’s up to you to hold your house together
A house you built with tender loving care
But you’re grappling with that gray and rainy weather
And you’re living on a latte and a prayer
I glanced over at my husband who had turned to look questionably at me. “Next to normal I’ll never be,” I thought I heard him whisper.
Who knew? Maybe we’re all living lives next to normal.
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as a dear friend once said, ‘mental illness does not run in my family, it gallops’
normal? no such thing, my friend. enjoy the holidays in all their levels of absurdity.
Some good observations. It does bother me sometimes that I am the only “normal” person I know.
Anonymous = George (of course)
Some days there is really nothing more one can say that has not already been said.
Ditto, ditto, ditto.
You have that great Tomar sense of humor and the Riggs “nothing is normal” blood coursing through your veins. I enjoyed your blog very much. When do you find the time to write this stuff?