Raw Drip

It was a Friday night and we were eating dinner at a popular pizza restaurant in the mall.  Shortly after we were seated, the hostess seated a family at the adjacent table.  Amidst the melee of screaming, crazed children and frazzled parents, this family looked as though they’d been ripped from the pages of the PB Kids catalog.   As they arranged their Neiman Marcus shopping bags and seated themselves, the process was polite and orderly.  I learned the attractive couple was Julia & Kevin, and their daughter was Isabelle.  Little Isabelle, age 3, was dressed as impeccably as her parents and colored quietly as they spoke in hushed voices over glasses of white wine.  

To say that there was a contrast between our two families would be an understatement.  With Dick in jeans, and a freshly tomato-sauce-stained shirt, and me in sneakers, wrinkled cargo pants and an Old Navy sweater, our appearance said to the world, “Hey, we took the time to bathe today!”  Adam and Tabitha, in their finger-paint-splattered Gap hoodies and worn Target sneakers looked a notch above street-urchin.  And, as usual, they couldn’t sit still to eat - they could only manage to stand next to their chairs, jiggling like little drug addicts who’ve become edgy before their next hit.  Several times, I caught Julia looking us over, trying to suppress the disdainful expression on her face. 

But, as children often do, Isabelle leveled the playing field - just a bit.  With her parents distracted by their own grown-up conversation and observing our train-wreck-of-a-meal, all her efforts were devoted to coloring her bread plate a stunning shade of blue.  Proudly she showed her artwork to her mother, “Mommy, I put the sky on my plate!”  Julia, horrified, grabbed the plate and said sternly, “Isabelle Marie Daniels - what a mess you’ve made! This is not an acceptable way of expressing your creativity.  Now, put those crayons down this instant!”  Isabelle pouted and slouched resolutely in her chair as Julia angrily turned on Kevin, blaming him for not noticing Isabelle’s behavior. 

As the happy couple fought over whose fault it was for Isabelle’s blue plate not-so-special,  their daughter regrouped and developed new ideas for childish mischief and attention-grabbing stunts.  In a less than ten minute period, Isabelle:

• attempted to use the lit candle on the table to set a packet of Sweet-n-Low on fire
• wrapped the cord from the nearby mini-blinds around her neck - twice
• dumped all of the salt out of the salt shaker and onto the tabletop
• used her spoon to fling grated Parmesan cheese across the table and all over her dad’s blazer

For all this couple’s efforts to portray an image of refined, urbane sophistication to the outside world, a 3 year-old girl was the humbling force that brought the whole facade crumbling down.  By the time their order arrived, Julia & Kevin looked exhausted and defeated.  Silently fuming at one another, they rushed through their dinner salads, gathered their shopping bags and left before we’d even gotten our entrees. 

I don’t care who you are or how ready you think you are for children, nothing prepares you for the big reveal - that singular moment where your actions as a parent force you to acknowledge the gap between who you really are and who you want to be.   As you’re faced with the inevitability of it all you realize the only way to survive is to surrender -  to give in to the chaos, to acknowledge the enormous and frightening potential of the lives you’ve created - in all their stunning imperfection, and to let old images of self be diluted (not erased, just watered down a bit).  

This is heavy stuff, I know.  So if you have a new baby or our contemplating having one, allow me to offer you some advice:  do you love eating in chic, upscale restaurants in tony little neighborhoods?  Forget ‘em.  It’s time to let down your hair, make peace with yourself and join the rest of us slobs at the mall.   The food’s not that bad and with all the other children screaming, no one will notice that you’ve added one more to the mix.

Dick and I have been a couple for nearly 20 years.  We met in high school.  He was the awkward, nerdy guy that girls were friends with, but didn’t take seriously.  I was the moderately popular tall girl that somehow blended in wherever I went.  Fate and a flaky date of mine threw us together in our junior year and we’ve been inseparable ever since.  Our love affair is the stuff of 80’s-era John Houston films. 

So I guess it’s ironic that such a stable, loving relationship could be ended by something so small - so insignificant as a plastic milk ring (see crappy picture below of the one I found on my kitchen counter this morning).

And, yet, I predict that the little plastic ring from a newly opened 1 gallon jug of milk will be the thing that finally destroys our marriage. 

You see, when Dick opens a new jug of milk, he has the habit of tearing off the plastic ring which holds the cap in place and then leaving it on the kitchen counter.  He does this while standing next to the refrigerator and always places the ring in the same spot.  The trash can is 2 feet behind him as he performs this ritual and the plastic recyclables bin is under the sink, perhaps 12-inches away. 

So, why not just dispose of it?  Why leave it on the counter for me to throw away?  Is this some sort of message or code he’s sending to his alien handlers?  Or, maybe it’s a test and every time I throw the ring away, I provide him with subtle insights into my true character?  (On second thought, it’s definitely not the latter, as that would imply that Dick is observant - a fact which I know to be untrue by his complete inability to find a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g.)  

Several years ago I conducted an experiment in an attempt to isolate the motivations behind Dick’s odd behavior.  When Dick left a milk ring on the counter one night, I didn’t mention it or touch it for exactly one week.  He never touched it, either.  In fact, we both took silent pains to work around the milk ring - carefully preparing meals, washing dishes, and making coffee.  It was if a priceless piece of art with a little red velvet rope around it were sitting on our kitchen counter.  Finally, at the end of the week, I couldn’t take it anymore.  I confronted him about the milk ring.  His excuse (seriously, no kidding, here) - he thought I was saving it for something.

When faced with such absurd excuses, the only comfort I have is knowing that all couples have a milk ring in their relationship.  It may take the form of the trash can in the office that NEVER gets emptied, no matter how many times you remind your partner.  Or, maybe, your milk ring is your partner’s habit of leaving the lid off the toothpaste or drinking orange juice straight from the carton.  Whatever it is - it’s pointless, annoying behavior that seems specifically designed to piss you off. 

But, I think I can offer you some assurances, here - it’s probably not about you.  The more I think about Dick’s milk ring thing, the more I’m convinced that it’s sheer laziness on his part and nothing more.  Most, if not all of his annoying habits have no design to them and are just the odd quirks of an otherwise loving, thoughtful husband. 

Lately, with aging parents and children serving as constant reminders of our brief hour upon this stage, I imagine myself in the sad situation of some day actually missing Dick’s annoying little milk ring habit.  Vividly, I can see my aged hand, outstretched, leaving a freshly torn milk ring on the counter, in a silent, loving tribute to my dear mate…

my mate, who was mysteriously killed after leaving a milk ring on the kitchen counter one night.

I have a confession: when I’m not watching TV shows about volcanoes, Bigfoot or historical events (oh, and Project Runway) I occasionally watch true crime shows on cable.  Don’t judge me.  You see, before kids, true crime TV & books, and re-runs of “Law & Order” were amongst my favorite pastimes.  

But in the past few years, the true crime genre holds less appeal.  Years of watching criminals make the same dumb mistakes over and over has left me feeling frustrated and disappointed in my fellow humans.  With all the forensic techniques available to authorities for coaxing damning evidence out of otherwise innocuous items, there’s simply no room for amateurish, sloppy or stupid criminal behavior anymore.  Some of the more common and, to me, infuriating slip-ups include:

Poisoning multiple spouses

It’s one thing when your 1st spouse suddenly kicks the bucket, but people will be suspicious when your 2nd and 3rd spouses also die under similarly mysterious circumstances.  True crime TV has taught me that when an otherwise healthy individual keels over suddenly - it’s almost always poison, it’s almost always for the insurance money and the perpetrator almost always gets caught.  It’s even more of a no-brainer when the suspect has already hooked up with a new person before their dead spouse’s body is in the ground.  They might as well just walk around wearing an ”I’m the murderer” t-shirt!

Leaving a paper or virtual trail

Dear Criminals,

If you need to resort to Wikipedia to research killing someone, you’re probably over-thinking it.  I can’t tell you how many TV shows I’ve seen where the suspect was caught after police did a routine check of his/her home computer and found all the incriminating evidence they would ever need in the Internet Explorer history file.  Tip: Searching for terms like “How to murder someone without getting caught” will usually send up a big red-flag to investigating authorities… 

Also, when resorting to your local library for help, take the extra step of donning some latex gloves (hellooo- fingerprints?).  And, for God’s sake, don’t check the book out with YOUR library card!  While I applaud your responsible book-borrowing, I think it’s wiser to just bring a notebook and nonchalantly jot down instructions for your preferred murder method.  Then, (and this is crucial) make a point of committing these instructions to memory.  Once memorized, permanently dispose of the entire notebook - not just the page you wrote on.  Remember, paper trail = bad. 

Good luck!

-Your BTCF

Making a statement to the police without a lawyer present 

I learned this from years of watching Law & Order - no attorney present during any police questioning is a huge no-no.  You think you’ve go all the right answers rehearsed, all the details straight in your head, but then out of nowhere, the police tag-team you with some stale good cop/bad cop routine and the next thing you know, your entire alibi falls apart.  Here’s the deal: when detectives start waving their badges, you ask for your attorney.  Simple.  

***** 

I think our society has a great appreciation for the entertainment that idiocy provides - think of shows like Beavis and Butt-Head and Jackass, for instance.   Maybe I’m in the minority here but I enjoy entertainment that’s more about inventiveness - inspired creativity.  I think my brain craves the twists, turns and complex moral dilemmas of the pre-Fred Thompson, Law & Order episodes. 

To save this dying genre, drastic measures are needed.  For my part, I’ve written a little perp pep-talk for all you criminal types out there.  Let’s hope this motivates you to think of others (for a change!) when you’re committing crime.  Here it goes:    

“Come on, guys/ladies! Amateurish, sloppy & stupid is so YouTube.  It’s time to challenge those of us who’ve been dedicated fans of true crime for more than 5 minutes, okay?  No more searching Craigslist for a hit man - obvious.  No more Swiss cheese alibis courtesy of your flaky, pothead cousin  - been there/done that.  No more leaving your DNA all over the place - you might was well just turn yourself in to the police now. 

Do you know what your future TV show and book audience is looking for?  Charisma, charm and good looks will score you a People magazine cover, but how do you take it to the next level?  It’s a little thing called project management, people!  If you want to achieve notoriety in this crowded field of Scott Peterson-wannabes and fallen sports heroes, you need to apply some basic organizational skills to the task at hand.  You need to work on your PRiDE - Plan, Rehearse, focus on Details and Execute!  And remember, a dose of originality never hurts (or it can if pain’s your thing and you’re using the right equipment).

So, what are we gonna do when the police show up asking questions?  That’s right!  We’re going to call a lawyer.  And, what are we gonna wear when we go to the library to research murder?  Gloves.  Very good.  Now let’s get out there and kill ‘em!”