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I'm FUNNY, Darnitall!

Something Shiny This Way Comes...
May 28, 2009 at 2:02 PM
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- Fistandantalus
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Pardon the scattered nature of my writing today, all my blood vessels have dilated and I can feel my heart enlarging as I write...

I started the day short on sleep and awakened by Alarmist Baby Sister, who chose to thumb open my left eye and yell "NIGEL NEEDS YOU!!!" as her way of communicating effectively with me. Since such a greeting typically means someone's lost a vital body part to Cat Shenanigans or a tragic Lego-Related incident I scampered start naked down to the other end of the house to find Nigel sitting calmly on the potty. "Oh, I don't need you, I just thought it was time you got up." I could hear coyotes howling at the moon outside, but my heart rate was square in the Target Zone by that time so going back to sleep seemed both impossible and ill-advised. I informed my son that sending his counsel to do his dirty work was a great way to have me go into MamaMode Yellow Alert before the sun rises and wandered back towards the bedroom to find a muumuu.

Coffee only exists at my parents' house, where we go every morning for breakfast and as it was far too early for anything but rolling drunks for loose change or a Walk Of Shame, I was gently hallucinating by the time it reached a Decent Hour Of The Day and stuffed my children into various clown combos the overstuffed unfolded laundry basket coughed up at me, grabbed the dog for Morning Widdles and wandered towards Blessed Java Country. "What's for breakfast?" my daughter asked. "Ummmuhhhh, dunno, cheese toast or cereal maybe?" In unison, each child protested one of those options and their choices were diametrically opposite. This debate deteriorated rather quickly and by the time we reached my parents' back door it had been made clear that one kid was a Poopy Head and the other was a Noogie Brain, I'm really not sure which was which because I caught the aroma of Sweet Java within and conveniently developed tunnel vision towards the coffee pot. The smell was coming from the ONE cup of coffee left that my mother had just nuked, so I grabbed random beans and ground and measured and filled and punched buttons, not really caring if it turned out Denny's or Lumberjack Strength, so long as it was warm, brown and caffienated. "Can we have coffee? We want coffee!" Both kids like coffee and get to have it with plenty of milk once in awhile. "NO WAY! Until I get some coffee, nobody under the age of 40 gets coffee! Leave me be until I have some coffee or you're going to find out what it's like!" I'd hit Pearl Jam decibel levels and was making about as much sense as Pearl Jam lyrics. Both kids wisely drifted away towards a documentary in Grandma's room about huge tumors or huge crocodiles or huge rollercoasters, all I know for sure is that they were huge.

I short-ordered up breakfast and presented it to Poopy Head and Noogie Brain. My father was doing a crossword puzzle. His idea of "doing a crossword puzzle" is asking my mother questions such as "Elephants have a long one?" and "Italian first course?" and having her spit out the answers like Google. The dogs were wrangling and yodeling, which is what they do every morning, but when accompanied by my father's machine-gun questions, my mother's pre-answer Vaudeville-esque one-liners and Poopy Head and Noogie Brain Live In Concert, it was like hydrofluoric acid on raw bone. I clutched my precious cup of Joe to my trembling bosom and shut the computer room door. Exactly nine seconds later:

CRASH!

The Yodel Twins had knocked my father's wicker-yogurt breakfast off the table, which atrocity caused my father to emit a spate of vindictive that would have curled rebar. Noogie Brain thought it was a fine time to ask "Grandpa? What's a flying fuck?" Sigh. I whisked Yodeler Number One away and put him in his crate and slung Yodeler Number Two outside for walkies, wet my parched lips with coffee and staggered back up to our house, Yodeler Number Two in tow.

I discovered my shirtless husband putting the truck tire back on, assisted him in giving the truck a much-needed jump, but did it while cursing creatively because I have to know everything else in the world, I REFUSE to know anything about or deal with Truck Mechanical Errors. My protests did not sway my husband, who always remains calm even when his wife is clearly and colorfully coming apart at the seams right in front of him. I painfully made my way back to Grandma's house and grabbed the Mega Mug Of Joy and stated unequivocally that I was going to kick a serious amount of Human and/or Canine Ass if I didn't get ten or more minutes of total silence. Alas, that threat went unleveled because Noogie Brain needed her butt wiped and I have ignored my way through that before and the results were both disastrous and apocryphal in nature.

Poopy Head was having school with Grandma because it's Science Thursday, which is code for Not Going To Be A Serious School Day, and she was preparing to do "chemistry" in the form of baking Carrot-Raisin cupcakes. Noogie Brain decided to tell us all what she thinks of Carrot-Raisin Anything. We all assured her that we really don't give What Grandpa Said about her gourmet opinions since she thinks plastic cheese is the zenith of culinary accomplishments. Noogie Brain humphed and flounced back to Documentary Country, and re-emerged four seconds later to inform us that she didn't care for the current documentary, could someone change the channel for her, preferably something that featured someone who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Feeling evil, I changed it to Channel Off. Noogie Brain was Not Amused and chose to spread half a tube of Gold Bond Medicated Ointment on the toilet seat, counter and floor of the bathroom, decided she was going to get into trouble for that form of passive-agressive protest and managed to lock both doors of the bathroom from the outside so nobody would ever find out. I'm not sure if she was putting off the inevitable or truly thought we'd all just pee in the yard forever. One screwdriver later, she found out that Yard Widdles aren't part of the human agenda and was thoroughly busted. Grandpa banished her from that end of the property for the remainder of the day. Great. Noogie Brain is All Mine, whoopee.

As my husband was already up, I decided to run the vacuum in the bedroom. The bristles dislodged a great cloud of mingled odors that included, cat, dog, sweat, tobacco, ass and feet. Alas, there are some Housework Sins that Night Blooming Jasmine Incense and Febreeze cannot conquer so I began cursing again just in time for my husband to come out of the shower and remark that he sure as hell didn't have Cat Hair Slippers on before he walked across the living room floor. This sage comment caused my eyes to bulge out like I'd cracked an air hose while on the Moon but I did not have time to vent my spleen at him before I noticed our Alpha Cat slowly shoving an empty rum bottle towards the edge of the top of the refrigerator because his food dish wasn't Feng Shui enough. Lunging like a soccer goalie, I managed to slide face-first across the kitchen floor just in time to catch it before it shattered. Because I was close to the floor, I noticed the ants climbing up the counter to attack the peanut butter jar someone had neglected to wipe down after making sandwiches. Yep, that would roughly be me. Not having anyone to blame but myself, I yelled at Alpha Cat, who doesn't give What Grandpa Said about anything and sharpened his crackhead claws on a roll of paper towels I'd knocked to the floor while skidding.

I never did get that coffee, but my blood pressure's high enough, I guess.

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May. 28, 2009 at 2:17 PM

You just made me laugh hysterically. And I don't feel so grumpy about my morning any longer :)

(((hugs)))

My FAVORITE line is "Grandpa, what's a Flying Fuck?" I will think about that and giggle from it all day long.

ToddlerBrain82

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May. 28, 2009 at 2:35 PM

OH. EMM. GEE! I am exhausted just reading that.

Moomie

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May. 28, 2009 at 2:36 PM

Uh oh. If it makes you feel any better-

1- no jury of moms would convict you if you unleashed your inner postal worker after a morning like that.

2- I am laughing my ass off, with tears streaming down my face and legs crossed so I don't pee my pants (which can actually happen even though I've keegled enough to use my vaginal muscles to run a cruise ship through ice burgs at full speed).