Friday May 3, 2013: Twelve Angry Men, One Delusional Mama

Dear Babies,

Acceptance is the first step, but I’m not there yet.

I don’t see anything wrong with the fact that I’m excited to be summoned for jury duty.

“I can’t wait, Denby! I’m going to go to lunch! I can bring a book!”

“Babe, you should not be excited for jury duty. It’s terrible.”

“I”m so excited!”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I’m going to wear a trench coat like Columbo!”

“I knew that’s what you’re thinking. You’re not going to be solving a case.”

“I’m going to watch that movie to prepare! What’s that movie? With the angry lawyer men? What is that?”

“Twelve angry…?”

“Twelve Angry Jurors?”

“–Men? Twelve Angry Men?”

“Well anyway, not that, that movie based on the John Grisham book.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re not going to be doing that. You’re just going to be sitting there.”

{Pause, while I visualized sitting for hours at a time.} “I can’t wait…”

Your father sees my delusions of jury duty as a cry for help, a testament to the true sorry state of my social life and interaction with people who don’t demand chocolate milk at 7:30 a.m. “Oh man, we need to get you out more…”

Meanwhile, what if I get called for Grand Jury, won’t they have to put me up in a hotel? I can roll around in the sheets, heck, I could make sheet angels without two munchkins next to me. I could order room service and raid the mini bar…






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