I’m sorry sir, but is that an invisibility cloak you’re wearing?! It is SIMPLY STUNNING!!!!!
That’s what I want to ask my husband whenever we are home together and he pulls off the masterful stunt of remaining completely unseen by the young, prying eyes of our spawn.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but I am convinced that my children are completely unable to see him sometimes. In particular, when they are refining their superior skills at asking for as many things as humanly possible in the shortest conceivable amount of time. It’s like he isn’t even there when they want something! It’s his superpower, and it’s magnificent. My days would kick so much ass if I could go invisible. The possibilities of invisibility seem endless and seductive.
I would put my invisibility cloak on first thing every morning so that I could sit down for 15 beautiful, uninterrupted minutes to have coffee and collect my thoughts. I would wear it while I read books, or get dressed, or even just to fold the laundry.
I would wear it whenever I have to take a phone call. Especially one from a potential employer, health professional, or anyone else who requires even a remotely civilized discourse, because it’s inevitably during these types of calls, that the shit hits the fan.
I would wear it when I walk out of the public bathroom where my potty training three year old decided to talk very loudly about the difference in the sizes of our “booties.” Yes, you’re right dear, mine is HUGE. EXTRA-JUMBO GIGANTIC. Cloak, please.
The possibilities are truly staggering….
I was leaving for dinner the other night after being solo with the kids for nearly 72 long hours, and just as I was getting into my car I heard it. Mooooooooommmmmmm!!!!!!!!
I looked back at the house, that beautiful beast of burden, to see my son pounding on the window in a panic. His fists and face were pressed against it like he was being abandoned for life to care for his sister, as if I were going off to a bloody and terrifying war, perhaps never to return. It was a truly pathetic sight, so like any sucker would do, I sighed the heavy sigh of the almost-free, and marched back into the house to see what it was that couldn’t wait.
Me: Yesssss? What do you need??
Complete silence. A blank look crossed his face. It dawned on me with the fear only felt by the visible, that he didn’t seem to even have anything to say. It was just a trick! Surely there must be something she should be doing for us! Grab her quick! She’s trying to escape, but I can see her visible ass! Nice try!!!!!
A beat later my daughter pipes up from her spot on the couch.
“I’ll have my dinner and a water.” She was sitting on the couch directly next to her able-bodied father who was holding perfectly and impossibly still. No doubt a masterful part of remaining invisible. I stared on with shock and envy.
“Your dad is right next to you” I say, “He’ll get you dinner and a water. I’m leaving, remember???” They both look blankly at me, confused and concerned, like I suggested that the cat stand up and do karaoke.
It was like they were two tiny Websters who were panicking that they had nearly lost their Mr. Belvedere. Who would shine their shoes? Who would fetch their water?
I turned and made a break for it. Busted out to my car in a flash before they could protest, a blur of keys, purse, and desperation, this time not pausing to see if tiny faces were pressed up against the glass behind me. My tires squealed as I burnt rubber out of my neighborhood with the music cranked up to a deafening volume. I cursed the reality that even if I held a shank to his neck in the psychotic way of a deranged convict leading a prison gang initiation, my husband would never tell me the secret to his invisibility cloak, because everyone knows, moms don’t get to wear them. Simple as that. Dads only. Dads and that beloved little wizard that is Harry Potter.
Some guys have all the luck.