Mama Bears

As we drove home yesterday from the Wrentham Outlets in silence after I had an epic wipeout at Auntie Anne’s by slipping on a fallen wet floor sign thereby spilling the contents of Maire’s pretzel bites sprinkled with a touch of blue raspberry lemonade, it was getting dark far too early and the trees looked as tired as I felt. The fall foliage is grossly delayed this year and the trees are flummoxed. I was pissed I fell, chewed out the man working the counter and nearly confronted the man enjoying a pretzel dog outside who had knocked over the piso mojado sign in the first place. J.D. told me he watched the guy knock the sign over, try to fix it, give up, and leave. I was cranky, annoyed at Isaac for laughing at my fall, mad at J.D. for getting snappy at dinner, and feeling oh so fat. I had nothing to say to my kids while driving. Then I thought about my fall and started to laugh because, well, falls are funny.

Today I drove J.D. to his 7 AM soccer practice and decided to send him with bagels and cream cheese from Dunks for his team. After I was told to pull to the front to wait for the 2 dozen I had ordered in the drive through, I was then told that I had not yet been charged for the cream cheese. I had already spent $41 (having also gotten coffee, munchkins, and a muffin) so I couldn’t imagine why the cream cheese wasn’t included. “How much do I owe?” I asked. The girl had to run back in to ask and then run back out. “$14” she told me. I handed over a $20, not awake enough to argue or cause any kind of scene. Then the manager came out with my bagels. “Umm. next time, could you call a day ahead if you want this many bagels? That way I can be prepared because I’m now already out of a bunch of things and it’s only 6:30.” she said with that shrug you do with your shoulders when you’re trying to make an aggressively passive point. “I’m just trying to feed a soccer team.” I barely eeked out. Again, it was too early for my neurons to function. Fast forward two hours when I picked J.D. up from practice. “Your bagels got swiped.” J.D. said as he entered the car, the stank from his cleats filling my nostrils. I assumed he meant they got gobbled up. Nope, wrong. The Hanson pee-wee football team had arrived at the turf right about the time that J.D. was finishing up his practice in the upper field. As he and the players came down, the bagels were nowhere to be found. They looked in the concession stand and asked around. No one had seen the bagels. “Well, J.D., I guess the lesson here is that no good deed goes unpunished.” I said as we drove home.

As all of us Moms settle into our Fall routines with as much grace as deer on ice, I have to say that I am not into it this year. Maybe it’s because Dad died a little over a month ago, maybe it’s because the eggs that are left in my ovaries are shriveling up as is my estrogen, or maybe it’s because I have no idea what kind of jeans I’m supposed to be wearing now. Whatever it is, I no longer have it in me to overextend or be uncomfortable for anything. When I came back to teaching in 2019, I bought all these 1950s inspired dresses and heels. Granted I had just been left by my then husband and was “going through something” but, honestly, who did I think I was? Then the pandemic happened and smacked me in the face and ass. Those dresses are now at Savers in Hanover and my most recent clothing item was purchased at Tractor Supply, mmmmkay?

As all of the shenanigans that go along with my life have gone down, Hanson has a bear on the loose. From Holly Ridge to Pennsylvania Ave, he has been wreaking havoc everywhere he goes, smashing decorative pumpkins and eating them. Thomas suggested that his name is Peter (Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater…). If you follow the Hanson Facebook pages, you are well aware of this and are every bit as invested in the story as I. This has been the background noise to my hectic week, making me giggle quite a bit. We Hanson folk sure do know how to chuckle at the absurd reality of nature that surrounds us,as if we don’t realize that we are all just living in the woods with a few trees cleared out. I have examined the photo evidence of Peter the bear and have decided that he is my current spirit animal. No, I don’t plan on throwing anyone’s gourds on the ground. However, I have to admire Peter’s lack of regard for our fall revelry and displays. It’s as if he’s trying to say “You humans crazy! This food!” And to that I would say “You’re right, Peter. We humans are crazy. Especially us Mamas.” So, as we all approach this next week unsure of how we’re going to handle it all, let’s take a collective deep breath and move into this week more akin to sloths than frightened squirrels. We are amazing and don’t you forget it. Sleep well, my maternal friends. You are more than enough. As for the bagels? Peter, Peter bagel eater??