Monday, January 26, 2009

The mother of invention...


My Space

This group I like to call the Quadruple J. All our first names begin with J.

J says tonight, "I tell them (her kids) to at least wait until I get my coat off before you start yelling at me about this or that or what you need."

I had a boss who had a hard and fast rule that nobody could talk to her until her coat was off. She frightened many a resident physician desperate for her help with a withering look, glancing first at them and then her lapels. They would run off and hide until the coat was off.

And so, Quadruple J has come up with a new invention, preliminarily called "Mom in a Bubble" It's an inflatable room, installed just inside any door where a mom comes in from a long day at work. The bubble room has a coat rack, a little chair, a place to put purse and/or briefcase, a hook for keys and a table to set the cell phone, review the mail, check the answering machine and sip the glass of red wine that is placed there each afternoon at 5pm by mystery butler (details to be worked out here). There's a spot to kick off the heels and change to birkies or slippers and a mirror to check on what the hair/makeup situation looked like those last few hours at work, yielding potential information for tomorrow's lipstick and eye makeup choices. Made of a space age vinyl developed by NASA, the bubble is impenetrable to knives, pencils, geometry compasses and other sharp objects that kids might use to try to get at the mom for complaints, criticisms, sibling fights, transportation needs, slumber party thoughts, etc.... Only when the mom is ready and has taken a deep breath, ready to face the enemy, does she unzip the one way zipper from the inside and step into the mayhem. We are pretty sure we have a winner here so copyrights have been filed.


  1. Oh, the bubble extends. At my place of work my team knows that (working backwards from taking off my coat) there is no meaningful exchange on elevators, in lobbies, on walks to/from the trains, and especially no talking if you happen to run into each other on the subway. In fact, come to think of it, once I've got my coat off, have settled in at my desk to check email, internet news, Facebook notifications and updates, there's really no talking to me until 11:45am. Then I need to be left alone during lunch, which get around 12.

    I don't actually recommend this strategy. I thought it would get me fired much quicker...but it's taking forever.

  2. This is a lame question, but what does the Js' sideways V sign mean? I'm just not good with the ghetto sign language. I think the ASL sign for J (pinky sweep) with a touch of 'tude (myspace style) would be more suitable for your white lady gang.

  3. I don't really understand the whole MySpace look but it's always a V sign and a pout. One can also do a thumbs up, but we were too cool for that. I just did what the teen photographer told me to do.

  4. It must be derivative of a peace sign, offered with laziness and 'tude, so it shows up sideways.

    The good news is that, according to Wikipedia anyway, that V sign doesn't signal membership in Crips, Bloods, Echo Park, or any other widely known gang. So, I guess the J Ladies (or the teenage photographers who like to diss MySpacers) can have it.

  5. Thanks for getting the fabulous Mom in a Bubble idea down in writing. Just discussing it was so therapeutic for me. -- one of the Js who was there...