Carter is working the day shift today and I'm spending the late afternoon taking down wallpaper in the room that will eventually be the nursery. I’d been at it for a few hours and was exhausted. I had taken a break to call Liz and report to her about how the rest of our evening went. Since she had constantly berated me the last few months about how often we WEREN’T having sex, I felt she deserved an update. After a few minutes we end the call and I decide to take a trip up to the local corner store to get one of my current pregnancy cravings: a black cherry slush. So far I’ve had one every single day since the day I found out. They are delicious and refreshing and the only place that sells the black cherry ones is the place right around the corner from our house.
I pack Gavin in the car and head down the street. Once inside the store, I make a beeline for the slush machine in the back, dragging Gavin along with me. I get to the machine and stopped in my tracks, staring at the sign that's taped to the front.
“Out of order? What do you mean, out of order?” I say out loud.
“It means it don’t work,” Gavin says.
“I know that’s what it means. But it’s a slush machine. It turns water into ice and you add cherry syrup to it. How hard can it be for a machine to do that?”
I see that the machine is still plugged in so I let go of Gavin’s hand, grab onto it, and start jiggling it back and forth.
The power light doesn’t come on so I start pressing all of the buttons over and over. When that doesn’t work, I start smacking the side of the machine with the palm of my hand.
“Mom, you’re gonna break it,” Gavin warns.
“Stupid piece of shit machine. All you have to do is make ice you worthless pile of horse shit!” I say to it, completely ignoring Gavin.
Oh my God I need this slush. I need it like I need air to breathe. Why the f**k won’t it just work!
At this point I'm pretty sure my brain has left my body. I continue to physically assault the machine, hitting it with my fists and cursing at it like it's a person who can fight back.
“Nothing to say for yourself, ass**le? You can’t even TRY to work? You lazy piece of shit. Get off your ass and make me a slush!”
People are starting to stare. I can feel their eyes on me as I rape the slush machine with my hands. I pull cords, I stick my finger in holes, and I remove the entire front cover, exposing all of the inner workings.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from the slush machine,” a man in a corner store uniform tells me.
“Why the hell isn’t your machine working? You need to fix the machine,” I tell him, standing there with the cover of it in my hands like it's a shield.
“I’m sorry but there’s a part that isn’t working. We had to order a new machine and it won’t be in until next week,” he explains, prying the cover out of my hand and setting it aside.
“Next week? NEXT WEEK? What are people supposed to do for slushes if they have to wait a week?” I ask.
“God doesn’t want you to have a slush,” Gavin tells me.
I look down at him questioningly.
“God is king of the world and he says you don’t need a slush. Can I get some ice cream?” he asks.
“God doesn’t know. HE DOESN”T KNOW,” I complain.
I’m pretty sure I’m having an out-of-body experience. I can see myself acting like a complete douchebag, but there is nothing I can do about it. I’m like a junkie that needs a fix. My hands are shaking, my head hurts, and I’m about two seconds away from selling my kid and my shoes for another hit of black cherry slush.
I take Gavin’s hand, walk calmly out of the store, and drive home.
As soon as we get in the house I grab the phone and call Carter. He picks up on the first ring and all I can do is sob hysterically.
“OH MY GOD, CLAIRE?! What’s going on? Is everything okay? Is it the baby? Did Gavin get hurt?” he shouts.
“The slush machine was broken!” I wail.
Dead silence on the other end.
“I’m sorry, what?” he asks.
“Did I stutter? The slush machine was broken. I couldn’t get my slush. I need a f**king slush!” I cry.
“Wait a minute, this is all because of a slush?” he questions.
Oh my God, it’s he doesn’t know anything about me. How can I marry someone who doesn’t understand me?
“I thought something serious happened,” he says irritably.
“Something serious DID happen! Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”
Carter sighs and I try to calm myself by NOT thinking about how much I want a slush. Instead, I think about how I want to stick my fist up Carter’s ass and give him a prostate massage with my fist.
“I’m getting off of work in a few minutes. My parents should be there in about an hour.”
Oh shit. The future in-laws are in town for a visit. Thank God I didn’t get arrested at the corner store. That would have been awkward.
“I’ll bring you a slush on my way home,” he promises.
“Black cherry?”
“Yes, black cherry,” he confirms.
“I love you! See you soon!”
~
Carter’s parents show up right on time. Thankfully I finish my big gulp slush by then and can carry on a normal, non bat shit crazy conversation. Madelyn walks through the door first and tells us all to come in the living room and close our eyes because she has a surprise for us. A few seconds later, Charles says, “Okay, open them!”