Uninterruptable

If I were a superhero, I would chose the power of uninterruptability. 

Picture this: me nonchalantly folding laundry, when a stray child wanders in, asking for a snack. 

BAM!! Mummy-pause! 

The child is frozen in hyperspace, unable to move or talk, happy in their stasis. I can finish my folding, blissfully uninterrupted. Everybody wins!

Way back when I worked for money, I was once complimented on my ability to concentrate in the face of willful distraction. This was remarkably handy, as I worked in an open plan office full of boisterous soldiers. There were regular games of office football (Terry Tate had nothing on this mob) and nobody batted an eyelid if a conversation was conducted well above the decibel level recommended for ears unencumbered by protective muffs. Yet I could stick my head down and carry on, regardless. 

But now? 

It's futile. Nothing cuts through my task focus faster than a small child of derivative DNA. 

"Mummy I want a snack please! My tummy is Really Rumbling!" 

"Mama, dink? Dink?"

"What time's dinner, darling? And have you seen my shorts?"

"MAAAA!!!! I DID A POO!!!! I NEED HELP!!!"

And of course, the devastatingly quiet yet fearsome "uh oh...."

Well, my darlings, do you know what Mummy wants? The ability to finish a chore, a craft, a nap, a book chapter... hell, even a thought uninterrupted. 

I'm going to Sydney in a few weeks for my Grandmother's memorial.* The girls and Mr A are staying home, so it will just be me. Alone. And I'm flying.

It will be bliss. An hour of uninterrupted plane-reading, followed by an hour of uninterrupted train-thinking, followed by a solo lunch at a cafe where I won't have to pretend that a sugar sachet is a lamb that sings (unless I want to.)

BLISS.

I know that, in time, the girls will grow. They will make fewer and simpler demands on my time, until one day they leave home and Mr A and I will be left with our empty nest. We will probably sit together on the same couch we sit on now, and reminisce about the days Bug was too short to reach the apple crisper, so opened the more accessible freezer and brought out the lamb chops every time she wanted a snack. I guarantee we'll chuckle at the memory of Peanut constantly asking us to watch her ballet shows, using the brown woollen mat as a stage and introducing herself with great gravitas: "Daddies and gentlemummies! Welcome to my ballet show!" 

But now? 

Right now? 

I just want a sleep. 

Uninterrupted. 

{*she had a good run, she passed two weeks before her hundredth birthday, and her life was indeed a LIFE. Packed to the beam ends with worthy and exciting living.}

**If you're wondering why this post shows up twice in your feed, Blogger ate up the original while I was sleeping. Yep. My post was interrupted. Where's that superpower?!
We had a couple of comments on the original, and since I sincerely appreciate every comment in our conversation, I'll repost them here.

RoarSweetly said: "It's not so much a superpower...but I'd love a super remote control that I could point at my children and press mute, whenever I pleased."

Becky Bee said: " I would have that power too. Oh to drink a whole cup of tea whilst it is still hot! Instead I find a trail of half drunk, cold cups around the house, which have been hastily put down to deal with whatever 'drama' has arisen "

So, gentle readers, what super power would you choose? Are you uninterruptable?