Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Spilled milk and Secret Mom School

I won’t cry over spilled milk- but I might about spilled pineapple juice. Tears may result after an event requiring an atypical drain of emotional and physical resources.

****(Camera pans a kitchen, Kitchen counters covered in remains of cookie-making detritus, school work obliterates refrigerator, background noise a din of little feet stomping upstairs, doors slamming, babies wailing, telephone ringing. Camera rests on full length shot of a woman who steps into kitchen only to find her shoe remain stuck in place after she tries to walk. Camera pulls to a tight shot of the woman’s face as it crumples- wrinkles evident around her eyes as they fill.)****

I am not sure who came up with the expression- about crying over spilled milk- but I am pretty sure it was a woman. I know this because there is simple sense to it. It optimistically rebukes the person to not don’t cry NOW without excluding LATER: there are more disheartening things to shed tears over in the future- and after all there is more milk tomorrow that can be spilled (the waste of it all! What a shame, with those starving children in Africa!) and the person to clean it up is Mom. Why? Because when Mom became a mom she took an ultra-secret class where no children or hubbies were allowed admittance, where They taught her how to clean up things so they were CLEAN, where she was the only one allowed to dispense the official “Yes, it is clean!” proclamation because she was the ONLY ONE WHO TOOK THE CLASS. I mean, certainly that must be the only reason that no one else seemed to be able to clean up the floor (the sink, the toilet, the counters…) when the mysterious gremlins came in and made the mess. Right?

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