Miss Octopus

As I write this column, I am also conditioning my hair and taping a "how-to" show on upholstery. I always do more than one thing at a time. Take last night, for instance. I made tarragon chicken while talking to my sister on the phone. The cord is long, so I was able to mosey into the service porch and throw in a load of wash, too. And, while I was there, I fed the cat, watered the Creeping Charlie and folded the clothes. My daughters passed by and as I intently listened to my sister, I used a sock for punctuation, and asked my girls in my own special “mom” sign language if their homework was done and if the table was set. I returned to the kitchen, made a salad, prepared a shopping list for the next day, and unloaded the dishwasher. At no time did I miss a beat or let on to my sister that I was doing something else. Her story about her afternoon at the dermatologist—though riveting—did not require my full attention.

I am proud that I can do a million things at once. It’s a good thing, since I am a working mother. With two kids in college, the prospect of me getting a staff in the near future is pretty remote. I have been doing this all my life, but now they have named it. It’s called “multi-tasking”. Well, whoop-dee-DOO! I call it “getting things done.” I wish there were a Multi-Tasking World Cup. I would love to compete. I would kick ass.

I think my personal best was a few Saturdays ago. One of my readers, Melissa, who lives in Southern California, wrote to me and asked if I would PLEASE measure her for a bra in person. My sister asked if I would help her with her garage sale on the same day. As it turns out, Melissa doesn’t live far from my sister, so I gave her the address and told her to come to the sale.

When she arrived, I was in the middle of taking the money for my sister’s jeans that had shrunk in the closet, while also trying to convince this couple that macramé planters were coming back into style. I scurried Miss Melissa into the house, measured her, calculated her size, gave her some bra tips, and was back in the thick of the sale before anyone noticed I was gone. I waved her goodbye as I ordered lunch to be delivered on my cell phone and sold my sister’s Flab-Buster before Melissa even got to the corner. I was hot!

My multi tasking black belt should arrive anytime.

By the way, Melissa, if you are out there, I loved meeting you, honey. Oh and the armadillo clock is still available. Let me know.