Hey, Where's My Burrito?

Mothers should be immune to two things:

1. Being sick while pregnant/breastfeeding/with any persons living in the house under the age of 18.

2. Murphy's Law.

Surely there should be some sort of credit given for the amount of patience one must endure simply to be the mother of small children. Right?

Surely we should be given an energy bonus for the bodies that have been put through the ringer for the past several months or years. Don't you agree?

I, for one, would trade in my mansion in heaven for a cave if I could just have a little immunity down here below.

But no, Murphy's Law and illness afflict us mothers like warts do a toad. An ever-present, unappealing reality.

Like getting up extra early in order to take as long a shower as you could possibly want, completely uninterrupted, only to have your three year old knock on the bathroom door at 4:57 am saying, "I gotta go potty!!", followed by an immediate burst of tears and a yellow puddle edging its way under the door. While your hair is still full of shampoo.

Or getting everything for a meal cooked, prepped, chopped, baked, and stirred together only to realize you just poured sour milk into the pot and ruined it all. 10 minutes before dinner time.

Or when you are having a particularly difficult day and NEED a little bit of chocolate and discover that the little box of truffles you've been hoarding in the freezer for the past year are, indeed, so completely freezer-burned by now that they taste more like frozen dirt clods than frozen chocolate.

But what I've recently learned makes my individual run-ins with Murphy seem like small peas.

There are actually some corporations out there that *gasp* support Murphy's Law!


No! Can't be!, you say?

I assure you, my friends, it is all too true.

Some restaurants and businesses do their best to prevent such incidents as the one I am about to describe, but not all.

No, not all.

In fact, Taco Bell happens to be one of those restaurants that seemingly revels in sitting back and playing spectator to the unsuspecting customers about to be slapped with heavy Murphy's Law fines!

For instance, nowhere does one see a sign posted near their drive-thru window stating: "please turn off your cell-phones while talking to our little metal box!", or "for your own health and safety, please refrain from cell-phone use while ordering food!".

No, nothing like that.

And so, one might perhaps be running late, ridiculously hungry, on hold with cell phone company, and ordering food all at the same time.

"Multy-tasking, Opry calls it!" (50 pts. if you know what movie that's from)

Ah, yes, multi-tasking. We women like to pat ourselves on the back for being able to do something that men get all mind-boggled just contemplating.

As a mother of four, I am pretty much stuck permanently in the "multi-tasking" mode.

Turns out, "multi-tasker" is actually synonymous with "scatter-brained".

The annoying combination of flute and saxophone blaring up from my phone switched over to an operator with a heavy accent saying a hurried, "Hello!", followed by an immediate question needing a response. I answered her, paid for my food, took the two cups of water, and drove away, trying to drive away with one hand, juggle the water and my phone and wallet with the other....

It wasn't until I was attacked by gnawing hunger painstoo far away to go back that I realized just how expensive those 2 cups of water really were.