I recently binge-watched Orange is the New Black, and I was terrified. No, I wasn’t terrified by the prospect that one of my past transgressions would come to light, causing me to be tossed behind bars. Here is why I was terrified.
During the scene where Piper is sleeping and Crazy Eyes comes into her cube, Piper wakes to find CE peeing on her floor. I wasn’t even disgusted at this, because the thought that immediately popped into my head was, “Oh Piper, do you even know how often this happens when you have children? They pee all over the damn place.” THEN I became terrified, because I started drawing parallels between Orange is the New Black and well….parenthood in general. Here are the random comparisons that ran through my head:
Getting Stabbed with a Shank
Want to talk about creative weapons? Come on people! Has anyone stepped on a Lego? I stepped on Dusty Crophopper the other night and was down for the count for about an hour and walked with a limp for about a week. How about the time I got bashed in the face with Buzz Lightyear and chipped my tooth?
No Door on the Bathroom Stall
Privacy. Piper has more privacy than I do. I haven’t gone to the bathroom unattended since early 2011. Showering alone? Riiiiiight. I regularly have an inmate….er….child banging on the glass shower door, throwing sh*t fit because the Mickey Mouse Club is over, or that “Charlotte threw up…and she is playing in it…”
SHU: Solitary Housing Unit aka heaven on earth for any mom. Want to know my idea of the perfect vacation? A room by myself in a hotel with room service where I just get to sleep all the time. Umm….isn’t that the same thing as the SHU?
Having someone cook for you, no matter the quality of the food, is infinitely better than no food, which is what happens when many moms make dinner. (Anyone else get up and down more times than one of those evangelical masses?) I would eat a Spam & Cheese if someone cooked it for me AND did the dishes.
Interrupted Phone Conversations
I won’t even bother to expound on this. Has any mom had a complete phone conversation without screaming, pant-tugging, or suspicious crashes occurring in distant parts of the house?
All said, I wouldn’t trade my inmates or situation for all the “freedom” in the world. I love my madhouse and all the insanity that comes with it and am thankful every day that these crazies are my wonderful family!