What Are You Doing?

I think the most annoying question in the English language is "What are you doing?" Usually, it's blatantly obvious what I'm doing. I.E., I am peeling potatoes, I am coming through the door, I am jumping up and down and howling in pain because I have stubbed my toe.

However, nothing stops the ceaseless tide of the "What are you doing?" phenomenon. I usually tell whoever has asked that question that I'm killing time waiting for the mother ship to get fueled up and then I'm outta here.

I can leave the room to get a soda and the next moment I'm aware of a warmth behind me being generated by the fact that my husband is close enough to me to make us appear one.

"What are you doing?" He asks as I'm standing in the kitchen, looking into the refrigerator. I tell him that I'm on a top secret mission for the CIA and if I give him any more information than that, I'll have to zap him with my certified Buck Rogers amnesia ray-gun.

Once, a long time ago, I actually found the time to sit and read a book. I was just at the chapter where the murderer was about to be revealed when "What are you doing?" comes at me from my husband, who had just walked in the room after a rousing nap.
Quietly and slowly, I put my book down, turned to look at this man that I love more than life itself and said in a slow, sinister voice "I am reading about the perfect murder in case it ever comes in handy!" I enjoyed nearly two whole days of nervous silence from him after that.
The other day, my youngest was shopping with Grandma, my oldest was at a friends house and I found myself restless and bored. I went outside and my husband had the car up on the jack, the hood opened, new quarts of oil ready to go and was draining the old oil out of the car. I sat down, sighed, watched him awhile, and in a plaintive tone, asked "What are you doing?"

Lisa Umstott is an Arizona mom and creator of Mom In The House, an online newsletter for stay at home moms.