I'm An Avoider

I’m an avoider. I avoid haircuts, clothing shopping, grocery shopping, emptying the trash, and wiping down walls. The problem is that everything I want to avoid isn’t optional—it’s required. I suppose I could let my hair grown down to my knees in homage to Crystal Gayle (dating myself here), but I have the unruly curly variety so I have to cut it or I’ll resemble Shirley Temple on crack. The problem with avoiding shopping is that my children would be shamelessly ridiculed when they arrived at school malnourished, skinny as rails wearing clothing that is too small for them. Plus, my teenager would definitely be barefoot since he grows out of a pair of shoes approximately every 96 days. Avoiding housework is doable, but I’ve seen episodes of “Hoarders-Buried Alive” and it’s nightmare inducing.


Actually, I can’t stand it when my home becomes cluttered or dusty enough to send messages to each other on the top of the dressers. I’m pretty sure that if I gave up housework for a significant period of time that I’d eventually goes nutso and plow down my house with a backhoe and start over from scratch. Perhaps that’s why I spent the better part of an hour trying to (unsuccessfully) dislodge a Jenga brick from my vacuum cleaner hose. Apparently my children are so stinking lazy that they think the vacuum can suck up socks, curtains, rugs and the cat’s tails. They also think that I don’t notice it when they sweep everything from the floor of their bedroom underneath the bed, but I always get the last laugh because I know they don’t notice the garbage bags of toys that I drop off at Salvation Army on my lunch hour. But I digress.

I need to find something new to avoid. Something that I can actually avoid. What’s the point of being an avoider if everything you try to avoid has to be tackled in the end? I need some suggestions. A friend of mine refuses to assist her children with their homework. Parent homework is definitely something I could happily avoid—it’s the begging and crying from my desperate children that I can’t take. Based on news stories a growing number of women are avoiding sex, creating the sexless marriage. I could try—never mind, I’m already laughing so hard that I’m crying. I like the idea of avoiding work. I’ve even thought about calling in sick a time or two after a really bad day, but I like my paycheck. Plus I’m one of those annoyingly responsible people who arrive on time, clip boxtops for education, drive the speed limit and recycle—wait!!! I don’t recycle! I don’t separate my garbage in any way. I use aerosol cans and paper towels and toss them in the rubbish bin. Come to think of it, I’m knocking holes in the ozone with abandon. Do you realize what this means? This means that I do actually avoid something. I am a successful avoider after all.