A Dangerous Journey

I am going into my teenage son’s bedroom!   The danger is obvious in the mere description of the task-  1. teenage male 2. his bedroom 3. going in.  I’m sure that my trepidation is the same felt by the Navy Seals as they descended into Bin Laden’s compound.  What will we find? Are there booby traps? Am I sufficiently armoured? and ultimately , What will be the casualty count?

Typically, I never go in my 15 year old son’s room.  At most I will stand at the threshold, yell in the time, and advise him to get out of bed, but I never step a foot inside.  First of all, there are huge obstacles to even the contemplation of going in- huge piles  cover the floor- clothes intermingled with the unknown, empty potato chip bags, even electrical gadgets poking out of the 2-3 foot mounds of debris.   Even when my dog ventures in she steps cautiously, unlike me she is willing  to risk life and limb to get to my son,  and for her there is the additional reward of being able to eat or roll in anything that smells really bad.   Those thigh-high heaps of unknown matter clearly contain biological and inorganic waste products resulting from the toxic mix of things decaying,  chemically combusting,  and doused with the juice of man- feet- stink-  – clearly the stuff of biological warfare! 

Why?- you ask- why would I sign up for a near certain suicide mission?  First, I’m a Mother-  a.k.a. A Hero, the bravest of the brave, courageous and undaunted in the face of the most herculean of odysseys.    The process of birth- internally pushing out something 100 times the size of the hole it emerges from- creates a warrior, a super- solider, prepared for and subject to the grossest and most challenging duties.  Secondly, we are going on vacation and school will be starting soon- and I have got to take inventory of what is salvageable, and what needs to be “red bagged”.  The only alternative: fire-bombing the room, is not an option since it is quite connected to the rest of the house.  So I must venture in…… !

 A testament to my mommilitary training I  go in fully prepared,  donning  a haz-mat  suit, which I wear over my bee-keeper outfit, and my cold-water dive wetsuit and oxygen tank.  Using the night-vision goggles and the infrared, Geiger counter I should be able to sift through the debris, and  safety manage the radioactive exposure.  I am hopeful that I will emerge within a few days with a handful of school uniforms, some library books,  and an acceptable body count .  And  most importantly – the pride of completing another death-defying mission and the triumph of surviving and living to tell other mothers that victory is possible!


3 Responses

  1. Hilarious, it deserves to be printed in the Miami Herald.


  2. I am right there with you on this one. Scary!

  3. I look forward to your blogs Barbara and this one did not disappoint. I love them all. Much love. Gladys

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