.SOMETIMES RAW.

painting by Shannon Lucy

So, my son is into all kind of computer games. I told him the other day that I would love to spend more quality time with him. He responded that he would show me one of his computer games and that I will totally love it. “It is not complicated at all, mom,” he said and explained all the necessary moves to me. This way, we do spend time together, I thought. Below is just a short transcript on how this all went. Enjoy!

Stop yelling at me. I don’t know why I’m plowing into this corner either, but the harder I push this toggle-pusher thingy, the harder it pushes back. Also: why are there four screens? It’s hard for me to tell what I’m looking at.

Oh, that’s all of us? That’s so sweet. It makes me so happy to see us all together like that. We really ought to grab a picture for Grandma and Grandpa before we—oh no, what just happened?

Am I—floating right now? Why am I floating?

I died?

How do I un-die?

I think I remember asking you to stop yelling at me. Do we make good choices when we yell? We do not. I think someone’s going to see a precipitous decline in their screen time allowance if we can’t work on our tone.

Oh, thank you for un-dying me. Now let me figure out how to—oh, hey, movement! I’m moving! I’m—

Jumping. I am shooting. Try to shoot this apple from my head, go on. It is fine. Just aim!

Okay, you don’t want to shoot me. So I’m still in this corner, but at least I’m seeing a different part of it. A higher part. Repeatedly. But look, I just landed on two of those goblins. And these laser beams—wow! They just shoot right out of my eyes, I guess?

Sorry, I see that I took out one of those little heart thingies above your head…

Your LIFE? Oh, let’s not be melodramatic. I have a feeling you may know someone who labored for thirty-eight hours to give YOU life.

Yes, I see you. I SEE you, I said. You act like running down this wall is pretty easy for someone who’s never managed to put dirty socks into a hamper.

Besides, I’m obviously dealing with a higher center of gravity than you are. No wonder I’m not more nimble—couldn’t they give me a cardigan or something to cover these enormous breasts? Or somewhere to put this sword? I feel like I might accidentally slice one of these suckers right off.

Oh, don’t sound so scandalized. Breasts are a perfectly normal thing to talk about. I have two of my own, for goodness sake. If anything, they were more yours than mine for the first year or so after you were born…

Excuse me? Did you just tell me to stop talking about my breasts? Did you say “tits” just now? To your mother? There are appropriate words and there are inappropriate words, and I think you know what kind you just used.

I’m going to walk back into this stone corner until you apologize.

Thank you. I forgive you, of course. That’s what mothers do. Over and over and over again.

Isn’t this fun? I’m so glad you talked me into this—this game is loads better than UNO. And speaking of loads, guess what? In between loads of laundry—I folded your underwear, by the way, it’s on your bed—I’ve been watching a few of those TockTock things online so I can be a better video game teammate, because that’s what families do: we work together.

Now, let me show you this cool move I learned to get rid of those nasty goblins. See?

That’s his SPINE!

And look, if I do this combination here, I can crochet it into a tea cozy. I bet you didn’t even know THAT was an option, did you? If you’d stop and use your words and count to ten when you’re angry, you might learn something.

Plus, some other game-moms figured out a “mod” to hack entrails into yarn, so we have a LOT of yarn to work with.

First order of business: I’m making myself a cardigan with a nice, sturdy rib stitch. Because I’ve got to bind these breasts of mine down somehow.

Also, it’s pretty obvious I’m cold. Why are you not playing anymore? Can I click on any body armour? Which one is the best? Joel? Joel? Joel? I cannot see you anymore?

—–Joel left the game

Artwork by Shannon Cartier Lucy (a painting of hers will be displayed on the cover of my new book; stay tuned!)

“Your writing is not thaaaaat good because it is waaaaay to satirical,” someone said to me a while ago. But instead of crying myself to sleep at night because of his statement I will give you some food for thought in the form of my awesome writing.

Criticism is a tough thing to take, much like how a necklace stored in a Swiss safety deposit box is tough to take. Unlike a necklace stored in a Swiss safety deposit box, criticism is not shiny and won’t make you feel like a million bucks. However, like a necklace stored in a Swiss safety deposit box, criticism usually has an evil past.

If someone starts to criticize you, adopt a defensive stance. If you are familiar with the sport of basketball, you know that a defensive stance involves standing with your legs shoulder length apart, knees bent and one arm extended towards your Critic. You’re doing this because in life you must protect yourself, like a fierce lioness protects her young. This means that you will play the roles of both lioness and cub. Don’t stress, there’s no need for costume changes. A faux fur rug draped over your head will suffice for both. And, no, if you’re a man you cannot play a lion. You’re a lioness. Get over it.

Now that you’re in a defensive stance and have a faux fur rug draped over your head, it’s time to go into offensive mode. Because, as we all know, “the best defense is a good offense.” Socrates said that, but in Greek.

The epitome of something that is both defensive and offensive is a bayonet. You can fashion one out of kitchen utensils and a broom handle, or a Swiffer handle if you’re fancy. You could also simply use your grandfather’s old bayonet, which he used to ward off snooping neighborhood children. If you’re feeling extra offensive, you could attach kitchen utensils to the actual bayonet so it’s a hybrid Swiss Army bayonet. Ironic, as the Swiss are neither offensive nor defensive.

There is no significance to the fact that the Swiss have been mentioned twice thus far. But it is worth noting. If you are critical of that, you would do well to keep it to yourself, unless you’re wearing bayonet proof armor.

Once the Critic sees you in your defensive stance with a faux fur rug on your head, wielding a bayonet, he will most likely retreat in terror. However, this only works in person. If the criticism is done over the phone or the Internet, your bayonet and lioness costume will prove useless. You could try and take a picture of yourself brandishing the bayonet threateningly and sending it to them, but this might not work. Not least of all because it would be hard to take a self-portrait while holding a bayonet.

“Know your enemy,” is what the Huns used to say, but in Hunish. That is why if the Critic says, in his critical accent, “I find your writing to be… what’s the phrase… not good,” you have to know as much as possible about him so as to swiftly counter with a cutting and personal retort. However, as the Critic is also a human being with feelings, you should avoid being overly harsh. It is safe to assume that the Critic has never known a day of happiness nor laughed in his life, so an example of a mild yet effective retort would be something along the lines of, “You have no sense of humor and will never love or be loved.” If that doesn’t silence the Critic, you could always make fun of his stupid hair, because his hair is most likely stupid.

That being said, people should be able to take criticism from you, because you have great hair and you are of course just trying to push them to do their best work. Also, your opinion is held in very high regard in many circles, so if you were to tell someone else that their writing was not so much good as terrible, and that they should just quit altogether, you would merely be saving them from a lifetime of pursuing a dream that they will never achieve. And if they can’t take your criticism they are babies who can’t even brandish a bayonet properly because they have tiny baby hands.

First, let me start by saying that I’m perfectly aware that you can make the impossible possible by taking away the “im.” I’m way ahead of you on that one. So let’s all just know that we both thought of that joke but I made it first and that’s OK. Don’t be discouraged, this little failure shouldn’t preclude you from making the impossible possible.

The first step in making the impossible possible is to design a motivational poster for your room with the words Mission: Possible printed on it. It should be in the style of a movie poster. Underneath the words, you should paste in Tom Cruise’s likeness from Mission: Impossible, maybe a photo of him hanging suspended in air, horizontal to the ground in an all black suit. Remember that scene? You could even take a photo of the screen and then print it out. You’d have to rent the film first, if you don’t already own it.

I’m not saying that you have to pick that scene. You can really choose any image of Tom Cruise that you wish, though Mission: Impossible makes the most sense in this case. However, it might be funny to have a picture of him as a vampire from Interview with a Vampire where he’s all pale and old-timey New Orleans-y. You probably are really secretly into vampires too. I mean, everyone is.

Next, decide what you deem to be impossible.

Let’s say the impossible is getting that big presentation in to the boss on time. This seems impossible because you totally forgot about it this morning, as you were Facebook-ing and Twittering and what have you. Why were you doing this so early in the morning when you should have been preparing for the big presentation? Because you were slaphappy and hung over after being out late last night drinking martinis and Jager with friends after that big steak dinner where you played credit-card roulette. You won credit-card roulette, but you’re about to lose big time with the boss.

You can’t believe you did this to yourself because the presentation in front of your boss and all the foreign investors is in five minutes time! The investors are from Germany and Denmark (so very serious, strict, and no joke!) and they’ll only be here for two hours before they fly back home!! But you, like an idiot, decided to celebrate landing the deal before you even made the stupid presentation!

Don’t even wish that you had a time machine so you could pull off a Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure scenario (yeah, I am from the 80s and this was so cool!) where you talk about stealing your dad’s keys and by doing so actually steal your dad’s keys, but in this case it would apply to you actually preparing the presentation. You know what I’m saying. Or not, then google it.

You only have five minutes so I’ll break it down, minute by minute.

Minute One:
Look at your Mission: Possible poster for a full minute to gather inspiration.

Minute Two:
Look at your Mission: Possible poster for another minute just make sure that you’re properly inspired

Minute Three:
Say “Ah ha!” and put one finger up in the air. Maybe that’ll jolt some ideas into you.

Minute Four:
Wait for that feeling of blind panic to set in. This usually works when mothers see their children trapped under cars or something and summon the strength to lift the car and save them. A similar form of strength should come to you at this moment.

Minute Five:
With your newfound super strength, trash your office. Sweep everything off of your desk. Then upend it. Smash the light bulbs, take the files out of the file cabinets, and throw them in the air. Throw your briefcase out the window. Then run into the meeting where the bosses are breakfasting and shout, “I’ve been robbed! The thieves stole my report!” Make sure you look on the Internet and see how to translate this into German and Danish first.

Fine, I’ll do it for you.

German: “Ich wurde beraubt! Die Diebe haben meine Präsentation gestohlen!”

Danish: “Jeg har været berøvet! De tyve stjal min betækning!” (Memorize both, they might come in handy one day!)

The big time bosses will drop their coffee and croissants and yell their surprise in German and Danish and run as a group into your office. When they pile in they’ll see that it’s been trashed and immediately call the police. Then they’ll applaud your bravery. They’ll be so relieved that you weren’t hurt that they’ll take you out for a steak lunch and tell you to forget about the presentation because your calm under duress clearly demonstrates your force of character, and they can only assume that the presentation would have been topnotch.

Hey, guess what? You just made the impossible possible. Also, go watch Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure. It’s awesome and you might learn something new.