Role Reversal

Since human offspring are born totally helpless, parents provide 100% of their care.  Much later, as parents age, children often begin to take on care giving responsibilities.  If you are lucky enough to live a long time, you get your revenge in the end.  It’s more socially acceptable to call it role reversal.  I assumed it wouldn’t start until we were 80 plus, but I was wrong.  It has already begun in our late sixties.

John and I were having a cup of tea at the dining room table Thursday afternoon when he said, “What on earth happened to the gourd?”

If we’d had time, I would have taken a picture.  The pumpkin-like decoration had a ragged three inch hole in it with seeds spilling out all around.  Oh, no!  It had to be the mouse!  Nothing else would have done that damage.  We were wondering how the rodent got on the table when I saw lights coming down the street.

“Hurry!” I urged.  “That’s Lise coming home.  Let’s clean this up or she’ll have a meltdown fit.”

I’m not sure how our resident daughter feels about mice, but I do know her violent reaction to spiders.  I didn’t want to find out her rodent rate score.

As we scurried around, I thought of my actions as a child.  My brother and I loved to jump on our parents’ bed.  When we started, I was too young to know you needed to remove the evidence.  I just ran and hid.  A bit later I knew we needed to smooth the bedspread and be visibly angelic in another area of the house when Mother came in.  I don’t think she ever caught us red handed, but we didn’t escape detection, either.  I guess it was worth it, because I think she just reprimanded us verbally without physical punishment.  Bob was always more smooth than I was and often quietly went his own way without opposition.  I raised a ruckus about permissions and paid the price.  If time outs had been in vogue back then, I’d still be sitting on a stool in the kitchen.

John and I jumped into action.  I threw the damaged gourd into the woods as he cleaned up all the seeds and threw the rest of the gourds out.  We jumped back in our seats, looking innocent, as she entered the front door.  Luck was with us because she came in saying she needed to Skype someone in Denmark before it was too late there.  She never even looked at our faces.  A couple of hours later Lise and I met my coworker Valerie for dinner at a steak house, so Lise never actually shared the table with the mouse.  The following night Lise and her sister Kate went out for dinner because John and I were too full from lunch to eat anything more.  Saturday morning I told Kate why I needed to clean up the table.  She helped me clear everything off, after which I swabbed the plastic tablecloth with a germ killing solution and put a fresh one on.  Whew!  I think we got away with it!  The feeling persists that John and I were hiding something from an authority figure.  Yes.  Role reversal has come to our house.  Let the games begin!