Nancy hopped into her 6 year old mini-van.  The left front end was missing from an accident when her husband insisted on driving their 16 year old son to work during a winter storm warning last year. A work shift that the son had been excused from for the weather, but Ned felt the boy should still make a good faith effort to go to the grocery store in the blizzard.  The son made $21.75 during that shift.  The van repair totaled over $1,200.  Nancy refused to cough up that cash to repair it.  She rolled down the windows.  The air conditioner had long since quit working.  This was the seventh straight week of one hundred degree weather.  She refused to fix that $1,500 repair as well. She pushed up the sleeves on her black sweater and off she tooled along the five minute drive home, sweating profusely, front bumper flapping.

Nancy pulled up front to see the green tag marks on her driveway where the city deemed the front apron needed to be replaced.  Price tag: $525.  She drove up to the mailbox as was her custom, hitting the side view car mirror in the process; also her custom.  She opened the bent mailbox door and retrieved her mail.  Ever hopeful for a friendly letter, instead she spied the renewal car taxes for Ned's new truck.  What? she thought, It hasn't been a year yet has it?  $560 due by the end of the month.  She sighed.  This wasn't going to get her down! 

She pulled into the garage and maneuvered her way around nine bicycles, three skateboards, one roller skate, two footballs, four soccer balls, three trash cans, a hammer, a large pine tree branch, and 14 bowls filled with colored sand.  Upon opening the knob less door to her home (the children had pulled it off years ago), Nancy spotted the Evil Puppy digging in the cat litter box.  She shooed him away and got out the broom but the puppy began playing tug o war with the bristles and her purse kept sliding down her arm and DAMN she was hot!  She set down her purse and  took off her black sweater and headed over to the thermostat. 80 degrees.  Three children (her own) and a set of twins (the neighbors) came screaming past her. I HAD IT FIRST YOU ARE BEING MEAN I HATE YOU I HATE YOU YOU HURT ME I AM BLEEDING I AM DYING GIVE IT BACK TO ME WHERE'S MY SNACK I'M HUNGRY I HATE YOU.  Nancy interrupted the chaos and asked where might the father be?  She meandered her way upstairs.  Ned was lying in bed, fan blowing on his half naked body, reading a book about proper Olympic Weight Lifting Forms. Ned assured Nancy that the air conditioner was working properly.  That when children went in and out of a door-knob less house all day in 104 degree heat, the unit had a hard time keeping up in cooling off.

Nancy got naked and put on her yoga pants filled with puppy bite holes and a t-shirt sans a bra.  She headed back to the kitchen.  Nothing. She didn't have the energy to go to the grocery store.  She did have a box of organic CSA vegetables and some leftover whole grain spaghetti and organic sauce.  She chopped up some kale, cucumber, zucchini, and lemon basil.  She added the leftover breadstick dipping sauce from Dominos Pizza last week.  It still didn't amount to much.  She took out the bottle opener and slowly wound it around the Chef Boyardee can of ravioli.  The can opener had broke a  few months ago.  That can of ravioli had sat in utter anticipation, waiting for someone desperate enough to figure out how to open it. After punching several holes she was able to squish the crap from the can.  She put it all in a pan to heat on the stove.  Nancy did not like to use the microwave.  Mostly because the handle was broken off.  And that the insides looked as if someone had exploded a drying cat in there.

Nancy listened to the sounds of the children fighting, saw her unsupervised puppy pee on the floor, and decided to turn over a load of laundry only to find the detergent bottle empty. It wasn't quite what she had fantasized about. Really, she didn't even have a hot tub so why would she want a crystal chandelier? She felt her sweaty boobs rub up against her skin. Tonight could not go by fast enough. Nancy flicked off the stove, threw  some paper towels on the puppy pee, and headed upstairs to put on a bra. She was going out. And by out, she meant the grocery store. Ned would join her and with any luck they could find a parking lot somewhere to practice her flexibility and dirty the seats in his brand new truck.  Life really was good. It was all a matter of perspective. And proper Olympic Lifting Form.