My Invisibility Cloak Has A Broken Zipper

I have the real deal. A working wonder. A genuine invisibility cloak. But it doesn't just conceal my body. It turns me to vapor. Like those ghosts in bad eighties movies (were there good eighties movies?) that keep trying to talk to the living, but the living just WHOOSH right through them. Remember those ghosts? Yeah, well, I can do that, too, when I am wearing it.

Like when the Cowgirl chases the Dancer down the stairs, around the coffee tables and then laps the kitchen island all while snorting, growling and screaming. Oh yeah, and laughing - in case that sounded too much like cannibalism.
This always seems to happen while I am braising or sauteing over a hot stove and brandishing large knives. Now if my children could see me they would never risk my life or their lives in such a careless fashion. I mean death by hot oil and a bread knife sounds positively medieval.
Right?

But, dang it!
WHOOSH - I'm always stuck in that cloak at the worst moments.

Problem is, it also muffles sound when I am under it. I can only be heard if I scream. Loudly.

"Girls. Girls. Girls! GIRLS! I will throw away every teddy bear you own if you don't shut it!"

"Jeez, Mom. Why are you yelling so much?"

WHOOSH!

I don't know who made this particular cloak, but it is flawless. It can even trick the Artist sometimes.

Like the days I remember to put on lip gloss. And a cute top. And sparkly earrings. And mascara (which is a major sacrifice because I find black shadows under my eyes for days!) And perfume. ( I mean, you gotta give a girl some credit! )

And then I see him. Handsome. Tall. Lookin' pretty good to me. I give him a flirty look through my crusty, black lashes. A little winsome smile with my goopy, glossy lips.

And WHOOSH! Nada. Nothin'. (Nothin' sounds so much more satisfying to say than nothing.)

(Okay, darling, I will give credit where it is due. You might not notice the sparkly earrings, but you also never seem to notice when I have a down-in-the-gutter, ghetto-ugly day, either. Which is oddly comforting)

Or in a room full of busy people. My voice is kind of soft. It doesn't carry well. And I don't have one those personalities that takes up a lot of room. So, you guessed it -
WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
I usually retreat to a quiet spot and when someone elbows me and tells me a joke I wave my hand in front of their face and say, "Can you really see me?"
Well, no I don't. But that's just because they were being nice to me and I can't scare them away with unnecessary weirdness.

And do not even get me started on teaching forty children under the age of six at church. I don't have that much air. If I try to WHOOSH an adequate number of times to illustrate that experience I will pass out. Some days I think a squawking goose could sub in for me and they wouldn't really notice.
Except the goose would be cool.
WHOOSH!

So, what I want to know is:
Are invisibility cloaks standard issue for all mothers
and
Why doesn't mine ever work when I try to sit down and watch T.V. for ten or eleven minutes? Do the electrical signals interfere with the invisibility rays?
Life is full of mysteries.