THE FAMILY PESSIMIST

     I'm a pessimist.  I can't help it.  I try to stay positive, but somehow my good attitude always seems to be derailed like a runaway train.
     A few times a year though, I have a calm and pleasant feeling that sweeps over me, which briefly causes the pessimism to dissipate.  Usually during those fleeting times, the house is clean, I don't have to work the next day,  I'm well fed, my wife and I have seen eye to eye on everything in recent memory, the kids aren't fighting, the finances are in good order and water isn't dripping from an overhead light fixture and onto my forehead.
     Recently, for example, I was able to enjoy that good vibe that rarely visits me.  Temporarily.  I had come in from a long day at work and was pleasantly surprised to find that the house was spotless (it's tough with two messy kids around) and warm.  The pleasant aroma of my wife's lasagna wafted past my nose as I entered the kitchen door, and even more to my delight, was the envelope on the counter that contained a check from the hospital stating that we had overpaid when our son was treated for a broken arm.  I didn't have work the next day either.  I was feeling blessed.
     After a hearty meal of lasagna, I retreated to the upstairs part of the house for a long, hot shower.  "Life is grand" I thought, as the water splashed off my face and chest. 
     Finally, after my shower, I poked my head into each of our kid's bedrooms to say hello, and found each lying comfortably and quietly on their beds fixated on whatever the iPhones and Ipods  had to offer at that time.  "Hi dad" Sidney said, before rolling over and becoming enamored with whatever she was watching once again.  Ryan simply waved, never making eye contact with me.
     Slowly and cautiously, with a pang of pessimism ricocheting inside my skull, I made my way back downstairs to find my wife curled up in the recliner reading a book.  "Do you mind if I watch the ball game?" I asked, while pushing the power button on the remote.
     "No" came the answer.
     Easing my tired body down onto the couch, I once again felt at ease that all was right with the world at that very moment.  I also felt the cold sensation of water bouncing off my forehead on onto my eyeglasses.  "What the..." I barked.
      Kristi slowly turned her head in my direction and simply asked, "What?"
     "There's water dripping from the light above my head!  That's what!"  I replied, already sitting up and staring at the dripping light fixture.
     "Oh, I almost forgot.  One of the kids, Sidney I think, overflowed the bathtub earlier and it ran down through the ceiling" she said, never removing her eyes from the pages of her book.
     "Don't you think it's important that I am made aware of something like our house being flooded by an overflowing bathtub?"
     "Number one, it wasn't a flood.  Number two, it will dry.  Stop worrying, relax" she said, finally looking away from her book.
     Truly, she was right.  The water would dry, eventually.  I did have to shift my spot on the couch slightly due the occasional drip from above, but thankfully it wasn't more serious.
     Once again, I began to focus on the baseball game and began to wonder if the Kansas City Royals could possibly win the World Series.  Suddenly, things got a bit fuzzier and my focus began to fade.
     It should be noted that our daughter is a completion cheerleader, which means that when she's not stationary, she's upside down, flipping through the house or bouncing off something.  Mostly bouncing off something.
     Suddenly, somewhere during the third inning, a thunderous crash rocked the house.  "What the hell was that!!!" I screamed, trying desperately to quell a possible heart attack and at the same time find my footing to make a beeline to the upstairs.
     "It sounded like something fell upstairs to me" she quipped.  At least she did take her eyes away from the book long enough to look concerned.
     "Something fell?!  It sounded like a bomb went of up there" I said, already on the third stair and heading higher.
     I bounded down the hall to find Sidney lying in a heap of drawers, clothes, a broken lamp, and an overturned chest of drawers.  "Dad, guess what!" the child squealed.  "I finally got my standing back handspring!  MOM!  I got my standing back handspring!"
     At that point I had to try my level best not to smother my child's glee at her latest accomplishment, but I also needed to point out that she had nearly destroyed one end of our home doing it.  "That's great, but for heaven's sake..."
     "That's great Sid!"  my wife chirped, interrupting my Mike Brady moment, while hugging the child with both arms wrapped around her.  "Do it downstairs, I want to video it." 
     Just like that, they both disappeared down the steps and away from the rubble, leaving me standing, dumbfounded.
     Briefly, I peered into Ryan's room to find him still deeply engrossed in the dark world Iphones and Beats headphones.  "What?" he said, sliding one headphone slightly to the side.
     "Did you not hear the crash on the other side of the wall?"
     "There was a crash?  No, didn't hear it." He slid the headphone back on and rolled over.
     I finally cleaned up the mess and set the chest upright and reinserted the drawers.  I took the mangled lamp to the garbage bin in the garage.  Once again, I returned to my spot on the couch to catch the last couple of innings of the ball game, and my wife had returned to her chair, having completed the filming of Sidney's standing back handspring.  "Finally, maybe I can watch what's left of the game in peace" I said, as a cool drop of water landed on my head and ran down onto my cheek.
     "Maybe, good luck" she said, never glancing my way.