Thursday, November 3, 2011
Speaking of Poop
Sorry for the break. I was crowning and then I had to froth my almond milk.
Dear Readers - I've heard from some of you about the disparity in my posts. It's true. Listen, she's been busy, working two jobs. Overnight shifts at the 5 and dime and then hustlin' at the local watering hole trying to get my kid a new daddy. Oh wait - that was my mom, circa '85 working the stock shifts at the brand new CVS!!! on Main Street Johnson City and then shakin' her tired ass over to the Headquarters - right down the street! to meet a man while The Interlopere stayed at home, playing with big sis's Barbies and dreaming that one day I too could be really thin and have blonde hair (and people say dreams don't come true... I'm still waiting for that Dream House - *hint hint*).
But seriously, here's a fun little story to share at the Thanksgiving table. We have been busy. Two jobs, no money, buckets of wine being forcefully fed to me via a wine glass. Sometimes I don't even have the time or energy to take a shower before I mount my steel horse and pedal off to the homeless shelter. One time I fell asleep in my pants - who hasn't?! Don't judge! - and in the morning, when I awoke and pealed off those pants there was some kind of chunk stuck to my leg. I had David inspect. He touched, he smelled, he said "Gross! it's poop" and I begged him to pull it off because it was stuck in my leg hair and really I have a very low pain threshold. He refused and told me to go wash it off. So I went to the kitchen sink and grabbed my Chore Boy - the sponge, not David! - and got it out, put my pants back on and went to work. David was grossed out that I didn't shower but I'm pretty sure it was not my poop. You know how sometimes cats get those dingleberries? And Pierre has a really hard time wiping with only three legs. And he's often drawn to my clothing... who isn't!?
Anyway, I've been busy. I'm on the verge of welfare. Or on verge of greatness. You be the judge. Or don't!