Tara Wood wrote on Facebook that her past week has been “emotionally and physically challenging.”
After the family dog was hit by a car, the mom of seven had to dedicate lots of time tending to his injuries and nursing him back to health.
But one wild morning reminded her that “things were pretty much back to our abnormal normal around here.” She shared her hectic morning on Facebook:
After kissing her daughter, Mia, before she left for the school bus, the young girl informed her mother she smelled “something burning.”
Tara smelled it, too. So she quickly made her rounds around the house, checking the toaster and her daughter’s rooms to make sure they hadn’t left on any hair appliances.
Panic ensued, and Tara decided to alert her husband. She wrote that she shook him awake while “low key screaming”:
“WAKE UP SOMETHING IS ON FIRE BUT I CANT FIND WHAT IT IS AND WE’RE ALL ABOUT TO DIE I THINK!”
Groggy and confused, her husband replied, “What now?” Tara carried on:
“BITCH SOMETHING IS BURNING IN THIS HOUSE AND THERE ARE SIX KIDS AND A HOBBLED DOG AND WE ALL NEED TO ESCAPE RIGHT NOW PUT ON YOUR PANTS AND HELP ME NOT DIE WOULD YOU?”
While her husband crawled out of bed at a “glacier’s pace,” Tara ran from room to room “like a mouse on meth” when she finally saw the smoke “wafting” from their game room.
Her son, Ronan, was playing the Wii — completely oblivious to the smoke engulfing the room. Tara looked up and saw a sock “smoldering and melting onto the bulb of the ceiling light fixture.” She shouted at her son Leo, the owner of the sock:
“OH MY GOD HOLY SH*T WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING LEO YOUR SOCK IS ABOUT TO CATCH OUR HOUSE ON FIRE WHY IN THE HELL IS YOUR STANK A** SOCK ON THE LIGHT FIXTURE? WE COULD HAVE HAD A SOCK FIRE!”
The guilty party watched his mother freak out and sheepishly shrugged his shoulders and said “‘Sock Fire’ would be a cool band name.'” Tara exploded:
“YOU UNDERSTAND THAT THIS COULD HAVE BEEN CATASTROPHIC, RIGHT? AND YES THAT WOULD BE A COOL BAND NAME BUT RIGHT NOW I NEED YOU TO OPEN THE WINDOWS AND WINDMILL YOUR ARMS AROUND BECAUSE THE SMELL IS ALL IN MY MOUTH AND I JUST WASHED MY HAIR AND IMMA BE PISSED IF I SMELL LIKE A BONFIRE TODAY GET TO FLAILING, FIRESTARTER!”
The frantic mother took a few deep breaths, popped a Xanax, and had one blissful sip of coffee before her daughter, Norah, appeared baring the latest news. She informed her mother that:
“Marigold is outside holding a baby squirrel. […] It’s so cute! And it’s not even scared of her. He’s just letting her hold him and kiss him and he’s not even moving — come see him!”
When Tara made it outside, Norah’s story was confirmed. Marigold was cradling a baby squirrel. And it wasn’t squirming or protesting “because he was dead as f**k.” Tara transcribed their conversation:
Me: “Yeah, sweetheart, I like your squirrel but can Mommy please hold him? He’s, ummm…cold and I need to make him warm.”
Marigold: “No. He sleepy time. I make him warm.”
And then she put him IN HER SHIRT, y’all.
Me: “Okay, right, so I can see that you love him and you’re taking such good care of him but can Mommy hold him so I can see how soft he is?”
Marigold: “He night night. Shhhhh…”
Me: “Give me the squirrel, darling.”
Marigold: “I love him.”
Tara resorted to bribery to pry the dead rodent from her daughter, offering Doritos and a fudge pop in exchange for the squirrel carcass.
Being “food driven,” Marigold accepted the bribe. Before making good on her promise, Tara made sure to give her daughter a thorough “bleach scrub.”
All this mayhem happened before 7 a.m. Tara wrote:
“And that’s how life reminds you that sh*t can always be weirder so just, like, roll with it.”