I have for you here a perfect recipe.
A recipe so perfect that, when followed precisely, will transform you from a normal, well-adjusted, mentally-sound person into an absolute raving lunatic. A lunatic who says such things as, “Because I said so!” and “I’m a grown-up so I’ve earned the right to swear.” A Mad-woman.
Here we go:
A Recipe for Disaster
In a large bowl, add the following ingredients:
1 potentially historic blizzard
1 kinda sorta blizzard (depends on who you talk to)
2-3 major snow storms
6 “no school” calls from the Superintendent
2 big handfuls of below zero temps
Mix the above ingredients together with a dash of cabin fever, a little bit of “she won’t stop breathing on me”, and cup of “if you need me I’ll be outside shoveling off the roof.” Cover the bowl with an ill-timed February vacation, and set aside.
In a separate bowl, combine the following ingredients:
(NOTE: these ingredients are to be handled with care. They are highly explosive and have a way of getting under your skin. You must resist the urge to run away screaming when faced with these ingredients. Stand your ground.)
One 11-year-old boy who takes a break from his computer and his phone only long enough to aggravate each of his siblings to the point of tears
One 9-year-old boy who decides to get sick the Sunday night before the first Monday the kids have been in school in a month. You thought you were going to get a break at last. You thought wrong.
One 7-year-old boy whose favorite phrase is “I know you are, but what am I?” (Which for some reason drives the 9-year-old crazy.) *Don’t do the whole “I am rubber you are glue…” thing. It won’t help.
One 5-year-old girl who said no to the only bagel in the house FIVE times when you asked her if she wanted a bagel with cream cheese for lunch. Five times you asked. Five. All five times she said “No” like you were some sort of crazy person offering her a worm sandwich. So you offered the bagel to her brother and he said “Yes” like you were Willy Wonka offering him the golden ticket. Which prompted the 5-year-old to suddenly decide that yes, in fact she does want the bagel and cream cheese after all. In fact she wants it more than she’s ever wanted anything ever before in her whole entire life.
One 3-year-old girl pitching a major fit, screaming and crying because you flushed her poop before she could show it to her brothers.
Now here is where it gets tricky. You need to combine the ingredients from both bowls into one big massive bowl. The key is to add them in the right amounts at the right time. Add them too slowly and you run the risk of being able to handle it all easy breezy. Add them too quickly and you’ll become a mental-case waaay too fast, which is no good. You’ve got a rep to protect. So easy does it. You’ll know you have it correct because you will feel yourself s-l-o-w-l-y losing your mind. Little by little losing your grip on the “normal you” whose kids used to go to school on Mondays and Tuesdays.
When you start fantasizing about being trapped alone in an elevator you will know that you have followed the Recipe for Disaster perfectly and you are now officially a Mad-Woman.