About This Blog

Rated P is a sketch comedy musical about parenthood celebrating the wonders & lunacy of raising kids from conception to college. This blog, written by Rated P's author & lyricist, Sandy Rustin, offers up a humorous and heartfelt look at the nitty gritty business of parenting.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Mother's Day?

I wake up leisurely.   I don't need my glasses to see the clock - it's 10 am.  The fresh ranunculus by the side of my bed are fragrant in their colorful blooms.  Anna, from Downton Abbey, stands at the foot of my bed.  "Morning M'Lady," she curtseys and fluffs my pillow as I sit up.  Sunlight streams into my bedroom and the scent of Dunkin' Donuts coffee and Cinnabons overpower my senses.  A tray is all set up for me and Michelle Obama who is awaiting my company for breakfast.  She's spending Mother's Day visiting Moms across the land, just to say "thanks."  She's already been to all my girlfriend's houses - she's invited us all back to the White House later for a party where Vera Wang will greet us with party dresses. 

Anna gets me dressed, and after breakfast with the First Lady, Julie Andrews brings my children up to see me.  They're wearing matching outfits made out of curtains.  They sing a precious little song and call me Mother with a British accent.  They give me necklaces made out of Macaroni & Diamonds.

Meanwhile, downstairs my husband stands in a tuxedo.  A limo is just outside.  Coach Taylor from Friday Night Lights is our chauffeur.   We drive to the beach.   We windsurf in perfect waves - we don't pull a single muscle.  When we get out of the water my hair dries in non-frizzy beachy waves.  I'm a little tan and un-self conscious in my bathing suit.

Suddenly my whole family shows up for a beach picnic.  Everyone is healthy.  They're all wearing white with simple vibrant accent pieces.  No one is swatting away flies or worried about when the tide comes in.  Sand gets in nothing at all, as we all spread out easily to drink pink lemonade and eat roasted veggie and mozzarella sandwiches from Crain's Sandwich Shop with Salt & Pepper potato chips.  My grandmother has brought banana cream pie from Chicago for dessert.  It has no nuts and everyone can eat it. 

My kids and I build the world's biggest and strongest sand castle and the Guiness Book of World Records record keeper is there to give us an award.  Julie Andrews keeps it in her pocket so it won't get lost.

Meryl Streep and her family are having their picnic a little ways away.  We make eye contact and are instantly friends.  We all barbeque together.  Oprah stops by with Gayle to say hi.  We all agree to meet up later at the White House party.

The "I Dream of Jeannie" theme song plays as I cross my arms and blink everyone home.  My kids smell like peaches and are thrilled it's bed time.  I sing to them, and Julie Andrews compliments my voice.

"Happy Mother's Day, Darling," my husband says, as he whisks me off in Airforce One (Michelle is so thoughtful).   Vera Wang is super friendly, and my friends and I look great.  I dance with the president until Tina Fey is ready to give her speech.  She thanks all the hardworking, loving moms for coming tonight.  She winks at me.  She's read my blog.  "Call me," she mouths as Barbara Streisand gets up to sing.

As we listen to Babs, my husband hands me a little blue pill.  "What is this?"  I ask.  "It's a Mother's Day pill," he answers. " It will keep us healthy and strong & our children safe and happy."  "There's a pill for that?!"  "It's your Mother's Day fantasy," he says, as we duck away to find the Lincoln Bedroom.

1 comment:

  1. Love it. I'm sure my Sunday will look just.like.this.