Hideous Monster

Friday, I had oral surgery. Saturday, I had Weight Watchers. Not a good mix. but because I missed last week's weigh in, I decided I would have DH drive me there, I would just weigh in, pay my price and leave. We brought the kids along and they waited in the car.

Often in my life when faced with injuries or surgery like this, I get a glance into what it must be like to be someone else. For example, when I worked in a dress factory owned by an Italian immigrant and no one in the place spoke English all day, I got an idea of what it must be like being a foreigner in another country. When I broke my leg many years ago, I got an idea of what it must be like to have a handicap. You suddenly realize that all the things we have put into place for the handicapped are often woefully insufficient. Like the handicapped parking spaces at work. It was nice that they were close, but I couldn't open the entry doors once I got to the building because they were so heavy, I needed both feet planted firmly on the ground to open them.

This time, I got an idea of what it must be like having a facial deformity. Everyone stared at my face. OK so it looked like I had a giant jaw breaker stuffed into my cheek. And the bruising on the jaw bone probably wasn't pretty either. Those who didn't stare, looked so self-conscious in their attempts to not stare as to make the situation even more uncomfortable. How could one not feel like some sort of hideous monster under these circumstances.

When I returned to my family in the car, I mentioned to my husband the hideous monster thing. The boys were listening.

When we got home and I settled myself into the comfy chair for some percoset and ice, I noticed Lastborn staring at me with his head cocked to the side. This was the first time he had looked at me since the surgery. Ever seen that shampoo commercial about mothers feeling invisible? Yep. That's me.

So I asked Lastborn, "Do I look like a hideous monster to you?"
"No," he said tentatively. "I don't see it."
Then he walked around the chair and looked at my normal side. He walked back to my right side and said. "Now I see it. Yes, you do look like a hideous monster." Then he laughed.

That became our joke all weekend. Mommy's a hideous monster.

Suddenly, on Sunday night, I wondered if his teacher was going to hear about the hideous monster that Lastborn lives with. Time for some damage control.