I need everyone to leave the room. Mom needs to be alone with her jeans. We have some issues to discuss. Go wait in the car. This isn’t going to be pretty. But…it’s happening. It’s going down. 

Close the door. Lock it. Don’t knock. 

So you think you’re big, huh? Well…okay. Let’s see how big you think you are. I wanna know. 

Come at me, bitch. Let’s do this. 

I’m going to slam you into the floor. Step on you. Pull you and stretch you to your limits. 

You’re going to be screaming Uncle. You will beg for mercy. 

Nope. Sorry. Not ready to play nice. 

I’ll probably throw your ass up against a wall at least once. You will smack hard and land in a defeated pile on the floor. 

Oh thank God. She’s done with me!

No. Wait…is she just getting a drink? Oh no, she’s headed back toward me. Round two?!

Noooooooo!!!!

That’s right. You just THOUGHT I gave up. Nope. I didn’t. 

I’ll grab you by one leg and lasso you around my above my head a few times and smash your ass onto the floor again. 

We’re just getting started here. I’m not even tired. Having a blast.

I’ll fight you standing on one leg. Maybe that’ll be a fun change up. I’ll kick at you and shake the hell out of you. 

Crap! I fell down! Oh okay. Point for you. Nice one. Bet you’re proud of that move. Think that’s funny that I fell over and landed on my ass, huh? 

Now you got me mad. 

Who’s big now, huh? It ain’t you. From across the room, your ass might look big enough to hang with me. I mean truly it did.  But nah. Once I got a hold of you–nah. Nah, you ain’t big.

What’s yer problem? Why are you being like this? Huh? Answer me. 

Let’s see what you’re made of. Let’s see how flexible you are here. How much Lycra? Let’s hope, for your sake…let’s hope…that you’re flexible. Because I’m not backing down, and I will bust you at the seams if you can’t give a little.

I will END you. I will slash you up. I will make you into shorts. I will stuff you in a trash bag. Just try me. Don’t mess with me, jeans. Not today. 

Get out of my face. I don’t even want to look at you and your stupid self. I’ll throw you in the other room. 

I got no use for you. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t even care if you exist. Just go exist somewhere away from me. 

I’ll just wear leggings. I don’t even care. I don’t care. I don’t even care. Is that what you want? 

I changed my mind. One more chance. 

I will drag you back into the room. This is your last shot, or I’m done with you. Let’s go. Me and you. 

I will sumo-squat you into submission. I will yank you into obedience by all 12 of your belt loop ears. You are wearing out my last nerve. 

I’m not gonna cry. I know that’s your goal, but you aren’t going to break me. <Sniff-sniff-sniff-sniff-sniffle> NO! Hold it together, Eggshells. 

We can take this down a notch if you need me to good-cop you for a while–why you been actin’ so messed up towards me? What’d I ever do to you? 

Don’t give me that crap about my thigh size. You used to fit, and now you’re just being an asshole. If you could just listen for one-

“Mom…” I hear a timid knock. 

“Yeah?!” Don’t come in here. I don’t need witnesses to this battle. 

“Is…everything all right in there? We heard some noises…” Genuine concern. 

“Oh yah! Everything is peaches!” I told you all…to wait…in…the…car. I will be right out.

“Are you…ready to go…?” They’ve all been ready, just waiting on me. 

“Mom?” I hear the knob rattling. 

“No, no don’t come in. Just a sec.” Kick, kick, kick, annnnnd…

We good? You had enough?

I open my door.

“Have you been jumproping, Mom? Why are you all sweaty and winded?”

“No. Not jumping rope. Just uh…gettin’ these bitch jeans on. It was a fight, but…uh they’re on. Let’s go.”

Sure, I might have to fight you some more when I get out of the car. Sure…I might choose not to sit for the remainder of the day. Sure, you might be causing me incessant agony. Sure, you put up a pretty good fight. 

But…

I think we all see who won this war. 

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4 thoughts on “Lock it

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