Walking the Wall

I find that my many years of sitting on my butt to stitch, sitting
on
my butt to crochet/knit, sitting on my butt to teach my children,
sitting on my butt in college, sitting on my butt doing home work,
sitting on my butt surfing, sitting on my butt writing…while my butt
might be strong as a rock from all that work…I am not! I have a deep
respect for people who do physical labor, I watch my husband pick up
windows and doors and cabinets like they are laundry baskets and just
move them where they need to go, but I am not cut out for it. I went
with my husband to a job of his in order to help him paint a sun room
he is redoing–I thought of Father’s Day coming up and we’d like to go
away on Sunday so I’d help out (I am not usually so helpful, as I’m too
busy exercising my butt). My son came along as he was being paid to
clean up a pile of garbage from tearing out the room by moving it from
the back of the house to a dumpster at the front of the house. My
husband has been alternating taking my two kids to work with him giving
them a) work experience; b) learning skills like laying tiles,
grouting, trimming, etc.; and (most important to them) c) giving them
extra money. Well, one look at that pile and my son was discouraged and
I didn’t blame him, it was an entire rooms worth of boards, trim,
drywall, and JUNK. After giving my husband a searing look that should
have shriveled him to a crispy weed, I set out to help my son and left
the painting to my husband. Wrong move. Yet once started, I couldn’t
(due to excessive pride and, at the time, excessive anger) back down
and walk away. It was by sheer force of will that I did not throw a 2×4
through the window and at my husband standing on a ladder with a paint
brush…I truly deserve some sort of medal for that restraint that kept me out of prison. Much to
my embarrassment, I did not do it with grace or with a good attitude, I
was sullen and angry and TIRED, doing more physical labor than I’ve done
in…probably ever. And did I mention I had a horrible earache? And did
I mention whiney? I was ready to quit more than once, by my son had
plans for that money and at the end, he pulled it together, gave ME the
pep talks I’ve been giving him all his life, “we can do it mom, we’re
almost done and if we put our mind to it, we can finish it! THEN we can
go to Barnes & Nobles” (how could I resist a 4ft tall 15 year old
who would do all this work for a BOOK [albeit a large book on Star
Wars]?) I couldn’t, I love books too much myself and understand the
drive, so I bent over grab one last pile of broken wood and insulation
and looked right into the eyes of something with a very long, hairless
tail! Yes, my evening was capped off with an opossum mere inches from
my face…have you ever seen an opossum?
No cute furry little rabbit is this animal, it is ugly! I must admit to
screaming and scaring the little (yes, it was little) thing much more
than it could possibly scare me. Did I mention it was ugly and has no
fur on its tail?

The moral of the story is that I learned even though I have been
discouraged at how long my snails crawl through college is going–I am
right to continue on, I am not cut out for physical work and need a job
I can continue to exercise my butt in. I also learned that many of the
words I encouraged my son with over the years didn’t actually go in one
ear and out the other, but stuck. I suppose that was worth a night of
hell and looking into beady eyes for.