Routine Leaves a Message on My Voicemail

I thought you’d pick up the phone? It’s been months. Anyway, uh, I guess I have a few things to say to you.

First, I miss you! Remember when we used to make your bed together? I thought that new coverlet thing and the weird pillow you found at Goodwill would spice things up between us. Yeah, the pillow tips over. Who cares? Then, your husband read something in a magazine about how it’s actually healthier to leave beds unmade because sunlight and air kills microscopic creepers? Can I be frank with you? It’s just a handy excuse. I will be over to make your bed with you tomorrow.

Second, school started a week and a half ago. You used to run into my arms on the first day and wrestle me to the ground. Oh, how we got things done! The meals, planned. Laundry in beauteous bouncy piles! Pretty desserts! Playground rotations with the little ones! You seem to still be stuck in summer a bit. Hey, I can’t get completely mad. Technically, there is still a month of summer. Sunshine and hot weather don’t make you want to think about all those mittens in the basement that need to be sorted, or fall clothes, or driving to Goodwill with bags to donate. Hey, while you’re there, check out the throw pillows.

You can’t stay away from me much longer. Already, you are driving the same route multiple times a day, passing the same fences, trees, ceramic birdbaths, speed traps, potholes, the Starbucks drive thru. I’m your backseat driver. I’m in the rearview mirror dancing along to the music.

I get that you’ll want to dropkick me to Brazil around mid-April. That’s cool. I need a break from you, too.

Anyway, call me back. Better yet, I’m just going to show up. You’ll be so glad I did.