Thursday, March 15, 2012

Please Don't Flush

After her husband quit listening to her, Patty started a daily dialogue with the woman who lives in the mirror. The woman's name is Vivian.  Patty's also insane.
Afternoon Readers,

     I'm just going to go ahead and say it...coconut water is disgusting. But, you know what? I'm going to keep drinking it because I bought it, and my mother taught me never to wast anything.

She'd say, "Paige, don't waste anything."

Now that we've got that out of the way, I'll share a snippet from last night, which has firmly convinced me that Husband doesn't so much hear what I have to say, so much as he sees that I'm failing my arms and doing the best impression of a mime in a car accident he's ever witnessed.

And now, a brief example...

     I think the thing I love more than taking a shower, is taking a shower without worrying the kids are drinking Drano and summoning dark things from other dimensions. Last night, after the twins had gone to bed, I finished washing my hair and was just about to shave or report my unsightly leg hair to Monster Quest, when someone opened the door.

     "Honey? What are you doing?"

     I splashed some water on the walls and made seal-like noises. "I'm knitting hats for small children in Bangladesh."

     "Ok. I've got to go to the bathroom."

     "Can't you use the one downstairs?"

     "This one's closer, and I sensed you were having time to yourself."

     Face wash began searing through my corneas. "Ok, just be quick...and don't flush."

    "I won't."

     "I'm serious. Because that makes the water ridiculously hot. I still can't grow hair on my forearm, from the last time you did that."

     He laughed. "I promise I won't."

     Lightheartedly, I began scrubbing under my jowls. "Hey, have you ever noticed it looks like I have four hips? Is that a pregnancy thing, or are they always like tha -"

     *Flush*

     "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!"

     "Sorry! I totally didn't mean to do that!"

     "When I get out of this shower, I'm leaving you for John Stamos." I whispered.

     "What was that?"    

     "Nothing, nothing. Remember when you said we didn't need tattoos of eachother's names because we didn't need to permanently mark ourselves? You were right. These burns are so much better. The one on my ankle even looks like a heart..."

Do you ever feel like your Maria Von Trapp, wearing curtains, singing to mountain grasses all alone?

Until Next Time, Readers!