What Matters Most.......: First Part
After an embarrassing divorce from her rich husband, Farrah must handle working for the first time in her life and raising two boys while battling with her alcoholism.
"Kyle! don't hit your little brother with your backpack"
"Mom! mom!"
"Brandon, mommy is on the phone. [ so as I was saying, I'll be in a little late]"
"Mom!!!"
"What the hell do you want!" I'll never forget the look on Brandon's face. His look reminded me of that time I stepped on his hamster SpongeBob with my $1,800 Jimmy Choos' a year ago.
As this thought hits me, Brandon and Kyle are standing stiff as tears trickle down Brandon's cheeks. "Okay, look, Brandster mommy is sorry, don't cry....hush....shh". I can't balance talking to my (in denial of how gay I am) supervisor on the phone about how (unintentionally but don't give a shit) late I will be. I try to attempt this balancing act while calming my sissy but adorable son Brandon down.
"Here Brandon" I make a plea bargain by giving him his favorite, a double-chocolate chip cookie.
"Hey, what about me? you said no cookies in the morning"
"Give it a rest Kyle". Kyle throws his backpack over his shoulder as he stumps in his flashing Sketchers. My gay supervisor is still finding ways to piss me off over the phone,
"Farraaah, now girl you know you can't come late again"
"Oh, but Mitch, I learned it from you"
"Excuse me?"
"Gotta go, you're breaking up"
The kids and I rush out of the house when I break my heel.
"Damn it'
"Are those the shoes daddy bought you?" Brandon yells
"No stupid, daddy bought her the cowboy boots remember? she threw them at him and called him a selfish asshole"
"Kyle! that's enough- we all know the story and don't call your brother stupid"
We hop in our all paid for by daddy Escalade. I take Brandon's gum which I specifically told him not to chew before school, and I place it under my shoe to hold my broken heel. Kyle listens to his Ipod - I guess to avoid me, and Brandon blast the car radio to the max as an annoying pop song plays.
Meanwhile, all I can think about is my old friend Jack Daniel: how he calms me and numbs the hectic chaos called life. I pretend the booming bass isn't effecting my fantasy about Jack rescuing me from my pain in the ass children and my careless employers.
"Brandon! turn that shit down." Brandon gives me that abused, abandoned puppy look - now I really need a drink. After dodging several cars and flipping birds left to right, the kids make it on time for school. "Okay, get out. I'm already shit! forty minutes late - go, go hurry.
"Bye mommy, love you' Brandon says with a hug "yeah, later mom" Kyle tells me. I lean back in my car seat waving bye to them as they walk up the steps. I sit in my car with my head against the head rest wishing for a drink. Should I feel ashamed that their precious love and appreciation is the last thing I want at this moment?
Now the real challenge: Jack or my bread and butter? I think to myself, contemplating, coming up with all sorts of logistics on how to meet up with Jack and make it to work on time.....................
"Mom! mom!"
"Brandon, mommy is on the phone. [ so as I was saying, I'll be in a little late]"
"Mom!!!"
"What the hell do you want!" I'll never forget the look on Brandon's face. His look reminded me of that time I stepped on his hamster SpongeBob with my $1,800 Jimmy Choos' a year ago.
As this thought hits me, Brandon and Kyle are standing stiff as tears trickle down Brandon's cheeks. "Okay, look, Brandster mommy is sorry, don't cry....hush....shh". I can't balance talking to my (in denial of how gay I am) supervisor on the phone about how (unintentionally but don't give a shit) late I will be. I try to attempt this balancing act while calming my sissy but adorable son Brandon down.
"Here Brandon" I make a plea bargain by giving him his favorite, a double-chocolate chip cookie.
"Hey, what about me? you said no cookies in the morning"
"Give it a rest Kyle". Kyle throws his backpack over his shoulder as he stumps in his flashing Sketchers. My gay supervisor is still finding ways to piss me off over the phone,
"Farraaah, now girl you know you can't come late again"
"Oh, but Mitch, I learned it from you"
"Excuse me?"
"Gotta go, you're breaking up"
The kids and I rush out of the house when I break my heel.
"Damn it'
"Are those the shoes daddy bought you?" Brandon yells
"No stupid, daddy bought her the cowboy boots remember? she threw them at him and called him a selfish asshole"
"Kyle! that's enough- we all know the story and don't call your brother stupid"
We hop in our all paid for by daddy Escalade. I take Brandon's gum which I specifically told him not to chew before school, and I place it under my shoe to hold my broken heel. Kyle listens to his Ipod - I guess to avoid me, and Brandon blast the car radio to the max as an annoying pop song plays.
Meanwhile, all I can think about is my old friend Jack Daniel: how he calms me and numbs the hectic chaos called life. I pretend the booming bass isn't effecting my fantasy about Jack rescuing me from my pain in the ass children and my careless employers.
"Brandon! turn that shit down." Brandon gives me that abused, abandoned puppy look - now I really need a drink. After dodging several cars and flipping birds left to right, the kids make it on time for school. "Okay, get out. I'm already shit! forty minutes late - go, go hurry.
"Bye mommy, love you' Brandon says with a hug "yeah, later mom" Kyle tells me. I lean back in my car seat waving bye to them as they walk up the steps. I sit in my car with my head against the head rest wishing for a drink. Should I feel ashamed that their precious love and appreciation is the last thing I want at this moment?
Now the real challenge: Jack or my bread and butter? I think to myself, contemplating, coming up with all sorts of logistics on how to meet up with Jack and make it to work on time.....................
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