The Princess and the Perception

There is something funny about perceptions. We just finished a nice dinner (with a lot of coaching on the art of having kids cleaning the kitchen), and my in laws stopped by after attending a party.

They were talking about their world travels—you know, the usual stuff, spelunking through caves, water travel trips that are billed as adventures where you are never dry, torches, malaria, sleeping with strange families in the jungle.

Good Lord, once again, I was reminded just how different people are. If I knew that I was marrying a descendent of India and Indiana Jones, I would have given this family fair warning.

They all looked completely shocked when I said that I am pretty sure that I will NEVER take any trip where I am in the wilderness in a full bug jacket with two sets of clothes: one wet and one dry.

This shock still gets both sides of the equation—on one hand, after almost 20 years of marriage I am shocked that they do not know me any better than this. On the other hand I think my in laws are shocked that my husband found me, dated me and proposed marriage.

I am not a princess. I do not crave twenty mattresses not piled on a pea. I am just damn tired. I like to have a shower from time to time. Although, if you ask anyone I know, I am not a fashionista girlie girl, I do like some girlies things, like baths.

I grew up dirty. I roamed the countryside. I rode horses in the sun, dust and grit. I mucked stalls daily. I baled hay. I waded in creeks. I swam in ponds, oceans and lakes. I picked wild raspberries. I am over it.

For goodness sake, I was working a full schedule of shifts as a waitress from the age of 12 to 25. I have three kids who are just now getting old enough not to have constant supervision.

I’m ADHD, I can barely find my car keys, let alone manage the schedule and ever shifting possessions of a family of 5.

And then there’s my husband. He is high tech and lives at high speed. Everything comes down to the wire. Our life together is fast paced and ever changing. I have to be ready to pull a bobby pin out of my hair at a moment’s notice to pick the lock when I’ve lost the keys for good.

Yes, I don’t know why I’m still surpising anyone at this point. I’m as transparent as transparent can be, and I’m the first one to admit that I am just too tired.

Note that the sleeping vacation that is my ultimate goal. I am tired. I want to be bored gosh darnnit! I want to wake up and say, “Wow, I have nothing to do today, what should I do?” Then I would go back to bed.