The Just-Us League

www.crazedinthekitchen.com

So, I’ve been hiding something, but I’m ready to come clean now.

My family is special.

No, not special in an our-kids-listen-to-Creedence-Clearwater-Revival-instead-of-Raffi kind of way, though that is true.

Nope. We are even more special than that. Because we are…

Superheroes.

Now, don’t get too excited. While it’s true that we each have super powers, we’re no Superfriends or Justice League. More like the Just-Us League (or, if I’m being honest, the Jackass League). Don’t call us when that Ahmadinejad guy in Iran finally goes batshit or when the Mayan calendar ends and all hell breaks loose. You all are on your own then. No, our super powers, while definitely super, are a bit more, um, subtle than climbing walls or leaping tall buildings in a single bound.

First off, there’s me: Molly, aka Mommy, aka The Vaginator. Remember that idiotic politician who made news a few months ago by saying that a woman’s reproductive system can “shut down” at will? That guy is a dumbass nutball, but MAN he made me nervous, because he almost exposed my secret super power. See, when I’m faced with an unpleasant situation—an epic poopy diaper, for example, or a horribly boring Back to School Night presentation—my supervagina takes over and “shuts that whole thing down.” Not just my reproductive organs—ALL of me. One minute I’m filled with rage, annoyance, an urge to vomit, whatever…then, SHUT ‘ER DOWN!—and The Vaginator takes over with her vacant eyes, plastic smile, and pleasant demeanor. Regular Mommy checks out while The Vaginator maintains the social norms and rules of decorum that I sometimes find so challenging.

Regular Mommy

The Vaginator

Here’s an example:

Last week, I took my boys to the Y for 4-year-old Matthew’s swimming lesson. Two-year-old William and I sat in the lobby with a gossip magazine (for me) and my ipod (for him). Within minutes, I was accosted by one of THOSE moms. She came at me with a chirpy, “Your little guy is just SO cute with his little i-thingy! My little Maximus isn’t interested in electronics at all! He positively INSISTS that I read to him constantly! I WISH I could get a break like you, but parenting such an intelligent child really IS a full-time job!”

At this point, Regular Mommy was starting to lose her cool. I was getting sweaty, my heart was racing, I was about to say something we’ll all regret…

AND THE VAGINATOR SHUT ‘ER DOWN!

The Vaginator took over and smiled politely, murmured “How nice for you,” and stuck her nose back in the gossip mag. My nemesis drifted away to find another victim, and Regular Mommy slowly regained control of my body. Another momfight successfully avoided.

WhereDaddy doesn't like having his picture taken

But I’m not the only special one around here. My husband also has superpowers. He’s what we call a “WhereDaddy.” Not a “WereDaddy,” like werewolf. A “WhereDaddy.” Here’s what I mean:

Later that same day, the whole Super Family headed out to the car to go to the park. But we soon realized we had a problem. A disgusting, smelly, and, well, stiff problem. In the middle of the driveway, between our car and the street, was a dead squirrel that I swear was the size of a horse. I turned to my husband, but…he was gone. “Where Daddy?” asked William. We checked the house, the garage, the backyard—no Daddy. He was nowhere to be found. He had completely disappeared. “Where Daddy?” William asked again.

Exactly.

Once The Vaginator had taken care of the squirrel (NO WAY was Regular Mommy doing that), WhereDaddy reappeared and we made our way to the park. As we watched the boys climb, slide, and scream at the other kids, another mom approached me—the president of Matthew’s preschool’s PTA.

“Molly! I was just going to call you!” she said brightly. “Cedric’s Boy Scout troop is selling popcorn, and we’re hoping you’ll buy some! Of course, if popcorn’s not your thing, I could just put you down as the organizer of the school’s Halloween Party Raffle? LOTS of work but LOTS of reward, I always say! So, which is it?”

What I WANTED to say was, “Are you freakin’ crazy? I’d rather spend the next two weeks listening to ukulele jazz every day than planning your raffle or eating your popcorn.” But saying that would make future school pick-ups and drop-offs really awkward. Fortunately, Matthew had joined us so I just turned to him, nodded once, and his super alter ego—The Inquisitor—took over.

Did you know the human head weighs eight pounds?

“What’s a raffle, lady? And what does ‘reward’ mean? What’s your name, lady? Do you have a mommy? What’s her name? Is she old like MY mommy? Why do you let your boy be a Boy Scout, lady? My mommy says they exclude gay people, so I can never be a Boy Scout or buy popcorn from you people. Do you hate gay people, lady? Are you growing a baby, or are you just fat? How do babies get IN your tummy, lady? How? How, lady? How?”

And, just like that, The Inquisitor froze the PTA lady in place with his questions. She couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t even blink. WhereDaddy and I grabbed the boys and ran for the car before his powers could wear off.

By the time we got home, I was exhausted and frazzled. I sat down at my computer to check facebook search for recipes while WhereDaddy played with the kids. But when Matthew pulled out Chutes and Ladders, WhereDaddy disappeared. The boys started eyeing me, because nothing screams “BOTHER ME!” like a mommy at her computer. William approached me, and I tried not to make eye contact. I tried to remember the reason his super alter ego is called “Ole Blue Eyes.” But he got me again, as he always does. Fixing me with his stare, he whispered plaintively, “Play with me?” I tried to say no, but those eyes….The next thing I knew, I found myself on the floor playing a rousing game of Chutes of Ladders. I don’t even know how I got there.

Look into my eyes...

 (OK, that’s not all true. The Vaginator played Chutes and Ladders. I can’t stand that game.)

So, there it is. Our secret is finally out. Like I said, we’re not going to be toppling dictatorships or stopping global warming. But, in our own little way, we are making life better for ourselves and the people around us. And that, my friends, is super.

Not us. Not even close.

 

 

From the Judges

First off, I wanted to say that this is a prime example of how pictures should be placed. The ones that actually demonstrate something are in the center, and the ones that are just there to supplement the story are off to the side. Great job on that! You kind of lost me towards the beginning, when you were explaining the whole Vaginator thing, but when you got to the examples, it clarified what you were talking about. I really liked how natural it all felt, and how the super powers weren't something that was overly cheesy. It didn't suck me in, but I didn't have to force myself to keep reading either. Overall, though, I'd say you did a good job!
-Tessa Taboo 

I have to disagree with Tessa. Much like MFP, your powers were standard, ordinary traits. I have to go all Stepford Wife like the Vaginator sometimes to other parents, my kids do the same thing, etc. The post flowed well, and the descriptions were good for what the powers were, but I feel like the superpowers were just too ordinary for me.
 -SooperDad Blog of Awesome 

I agree that the powers were a little ordinary, but that isn't an issue for me. I have commended some others for sticking true to their voices and their blogs, and I will tell you the same thing. Your writing - even when writing from a prompt or assignment - should reflect you, and I won't fault you for that.

I enjoyed this post, and loved the scene with the inquisitor. Boy, I wish I had one of those. There were a lot of moments that I though, "Oh man! I know how that feels." So, I thought you did a great job.
 -The Spaghetti Westerner

I really liked this one! Vaginator cracked me up! Funny and perfect length. Thank you
-Mommy in Law 

Great use of photos and layout, and I love The Inquisitor! The content of the story itself fell flat for me, and was largely unremarkable. Form is important, but content is king.
 -From the Bungalow 

I enjoyed this post. While I agree that the powers may be "ordinary", the way they were portrayed was very entertaining. I wish I could train my kids to offer up an inquisition at the right moments. It really could be at time saver. The pictures were perfect and I found myself smiling while reading it. I say good job!
-You Know It Happens At Your House Too (Guest Judge)