Hey Mom, I Built You A Time Machine

Hey Mom,

Surprise! I built you a time machine.

No, it’s not a metaphorical time machine. I'm a science girl, not a poet! Remember all those hours you spent and all the patience you lost tutoring me for my classes, despite the fact that you were a working mom and housewife rolled into one? Well it's finally paid off because I’ve built you an actual, WORKING time machine!

It’s safe, I promise. You’re not going to get electrocuted like I did, you’re not going to drown like I did, you’re not going to emerge halfway through a wall and get stuck there forever like I did. It’s fine. It's totally fine. I tested it a THOUSAND times and yelled EUREKAAAAA!!!! when it finally worked according to specifications.

Now let’s go over the features of my marvelous invention! Yeah I’m going to brief you in person too but I know how you like keeping a list and checking it twice, ha ha. I will also provide an electronic copy of these notes for your perusal at a later time as soon as I figure out how to send you a message on TikTok. What are you even doing on Tiktok

1) You have to wear the chastity belt. But it’s not actually a chastity belt. That’s for sanitation purposes. It’s fine, that's state of the art! Most people just can’t hold their bladder in their trip through time don’t ask how I know this for certain and I know how important it is for you for everything to remain neat and clean and tidy AT ALL TIMES. I’ll spare your feelings by not detailing how that mechanism works, because it's gross and you refused to work in healthcare exactly for that reason.

Just please don’t forget: wear it. If you don’t want to pee in your pants, wear it. PLEASE PLEASE WEAR IT ONEGAI OKAASAN ARIGATOU

Can you believe I can actually picture out your reaction? You're not the only one who knows me well. I know you too, Mom. Fine. IT’S AN ADULT DIAPER. There, I said it. But it's a high tech adult diaper. Why can’t you just call it a chastity belt since I’m sending you to the medieval era anyway??

Okay, next. The box. Don’t panic. That's not a coffin. That's not for you to lie down in OR on. That’s your suitcase. It’s designed to safely transport your clothes and gear through space-time so that they’re spic and span and CLEAN and ready for use. You’re gonna have to change out of the chastity belt and the biohazard suit if you want to meet the Duke, right? But pack light. I’m serious!! One suitcase and a carry on like whenever we travel on promo fares, only that’s the suitcase and you’re the carry on. Charm the Duke and you don’t have to concern yourself with not having anything to wear.

Lastly, the sack. That’s not for your dirty clothes. That’s for you to take the Duke back home.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA scared you didn’t I?

Fine. No kidnapping of hot noblemen. He’s hot, I totally scouted him for you. You’re giving me that look, aren’t you. And now you’re rolling your eyes. Don’t you remember this was your idea? You wanted to meet a Duke and step foot in a real castle! You wanted to live out a fairytale! Minus the inconvenience of not having a proper toilet, wearing corsets, and shivering in the cold while the smell of horse poop infiltrated your sensitive nostrils. You always told me to never stop believing, now it’s your turn! Why else did I get you that ball gown and glittery shoes and glow-in-the-dark crown for your seventieth birthday? You’re going to be the most beautiful mystery mother of the princess EVER, and there WILL be pictures for you to post on Instagram.

So here’s the plan. You’re going to the ball, you’re going to charm the Duke, you’re going to take him on a walk through the gardens, then you’re going to make him kiss you by the fountain. Please make sure to lift your leg like those girls in the princess movies we used to watch together. And don’t forget to play demure. Old-school girls aren’t strong badass women like you who can rule better than a king with how well you manage a household and a rebellious daughter and memorize all the names and account balances of your customers. Pretend to faint if you have to. Or trip and fall dramatically. DRAMATICALLY. Think of the movies!

And then, once he’s fallen for you hook, line and sinker, you’re going to run. RUN. Cinderella style. Once you've reached your 100th step while running at 4mph (THIS IS IMPORTANT), the strap of your left shoe will automatically snap and you’re going to have to leave half the pair of your footwear behind. Don’t worry, you’ll be wearing sanitation stockings, you won’t even feel a thing when you inevitably step on horse poop!

IMPORTANT: You HAVE to be back before ten (not midnight, you're not Cinderella, besides my curfew was always ten smh) or else Dad will never stop looking for you, and then we’re all going to be miserable tomorrow because he’ll be cranky for being kept up late and you’ll be cranky because he’s cranky and I’ll be cranky because you’ll both be cranky and act like it’s all my fault. So pay close attention to the instructions I’ll be giving you through your earpiece as I guide you along the maze of the palace gardens and you don’t miss your return window to the present time.

Oh, the earpiece? Well didn’t you want to be a Bond girl too? Or the leading lady to whatever number Mission Impossible is on by now? Hey, you know my dreams, I know yours. You helped me achieve mine, now it’s my turn.

Love ya.

Note: This might not be a true story, but this was very much inspired by my own mother. Love you, Mom. xx