Never Again

Twenty minutes through my day, I'd already decided. I don't want to be home alone with my son: Never, Ever, Again!

It’s Saturday, and that's his day off from Nursery School. I'd just quit my job like three weeks ago, but haven't been staying home much since then. Apparently, this is my first Saturday at home, alone, with my four year old master. I'd made up my mind, that like last Sunday, when I finished all my chores early, and enjoyed the rest of my day with Raya, this Saturday would be Zaid's treat. We'd play and paint and watch TV, and not once will I ask for a break from Dexter, I will enjoy it when he cries at his sister " You Know what, you are stuuuuupid, and you know what, you are stuuuuupid" just as much as my kids do, and instead of lecturing what a bad thing to say to one's sister, I will admit to the humor in that and actually laugh! I will bring out the long-lost (or so they think) messy arts box, with the glue and the glitter, the water colours and the Guache Paint, and everything's gonna be ok -Just as long as we spread those disposable nylon sheets all over the place. I was geared up for a lovely morning, where I bond, with my only son, who is loads of fun, with his wit and big mouth and funny gestures..I promise you all, this was my plan, and it was aborted right away!

It was quite the scene, seeing Raya off at the door, with demands that she stays to share his fun. Needless to say, he hates her Sundays off just as much as the rest of us do, but Cbeebies was on, and Balamory saved the day once again. I left him to watch some of that while I started out in the kitchen. I was filling up the dishwasher when he sneaked up behind me and wanted to do it himself. His fingers hardly missed the sharp knife sticking its pointed tip out of the cutlery box, but he still insisted this was a job for him to do.

He had to remove the soap block I just put in the dishwasher, because he insisted the powdery one was better.. of course it is; since it gives him another job, to add rinse in the next container. .With an “Allah yjeebek ya tolet el ro7!” I had to succumb.

There were a few big items that did not fit in the dishwasher, and as soon as I stood in front of the sink, I found him, on a chair standing between me and the tap..it was either me  or him on that sink, and obviously..it was him. I left him to mess around with the water for a few minutes while I started on my lassagne..of course he was there to peel the onions, and he was there to grate the cheese, he was there to layer the lassagne sheets and he was there to spread the white sauce. Now I did not mind any of that as long he stayed away from the stove, and that he did. I assumed, that while I was cooking by the stove, he was happily playing with his Leap Frog magnets on the fridge since the only thing resonating through my ears was :”B says beh, B says beh, every letter makes a sound and B says beh!” I was even singing along, enjoying the fact that at last, the kid found something to distract him. The cooking was done, and it was time for a load of laundry. Zaid runs down and fetches the soap box from under the sink, opens the washing machine drawer and fills it with the right amount of soap. My son would make an ideal husband, I tell you..he is very helpful around the house, with the things he is NOT asked to do. So before I turn the dial to the required cycle, I realize the soap drawer is not closing very well. This is new I thought, how come? Not that it’s a big deal or anything, but I sort of smelled something fishy. After some inspection of the drawer and its compartment, I was able to fish out a nicely decorated pink Barbie room drawer, right at the tip of  that pipe behind the compartment. It MUST have been me who stuffed it in there because Zaid was terribly offended when I accused him, and denied it ever so innocently. So as long as that was out of the way, I started my washing cycle and left the kitchen. 

15 minutes later, Zaid was already demanding a snack. He’d had his breakfast earlier, but this boy is a nibbler, he has to be munching on something all day long. Luckily he likes vegetables and a snack of sliced peppers is more than welcome. Back to the kitchen, to find it flooded with soapy foamy water. It wasn’t that difficult to decide where the water was coming from, since the washing machine was throwing its guts out, from under the soap drawer and the timer knobs. OH MY GOD! My washing machine..my trusted washing machine that has never failed me in its seven years of service. Zaid stays at home ONE Saturday, and manages to ruin it. Being the disbeliever that I am, I had to check again that this was not really a disaster, probably a one time thing, that I really don’t want to know why and how it happened, so again, I rewind the cycle, and the machine starts filling up the water nicely. No signs of disaster…khalas! I can wipe that ugly image out of my mind. It’s like it never happened. I spent a few more minutes draining all that water from the floor, and watching the machine, begging it not to break down on me, not in the same month when we have to pay two huge payments for the current schools, and a third for Zaid’s new school. But my trusted washing machine seemed to be doing well and did not mind me taking Zaido’s snack and enjoying it with him over a game of  -dinosaurs go extinct- Again.

Blogging keeps me sane, I realized, a few minutes later.

The illusion of safety did not last long..soon, the kitchen was vibrating with loud thumping sounds, I went there to find my trusted –but now crazy-washing machine in the middle of the kitchen, with streams of water running down its front, heading towards the kitchen table, with steady steps like it was coming to get it.

I put it off, left it there, repeated my vows from a few hours ago, never to be home alone with Zaid ever again, and typed away! AH, THE RELIEF!

March 2008