Not the most thrilling title is it? I wish I could say the same for the way my days get started around here. First of all let me explain the dynamics of the household a little bit- due to many extenuating circumstances, mostly involving money and how little there is around these days, my mother, myself, and my son share a house with the animals. I recently lost my dog to heat stroke, so we're down to mom's 3 beagles and my cat.
Introducing..the Gang:
1. Max- Beagle. 11 years old and refuses to admit it. Horrible breath and wrapped around the paws of
2. Lucy- Beagle. 10 years old. The Brains of the Operation. Alpha of the pack. Total princess.
3. Rerun- Beagle. 9 years old. Built like a whippet in a beagle suit. Household fart detector. No, really.
4. Bean- Cat. Mama was a longhaired orange tabby, daddy was a Maine Coon. She likes earlobes.
5. The Kid- Toddler. 3 years old. Likes to pretend he's Doctor Who.
So here I am trying desperately to attain my goal of sleeping past 8 am and through my happy little haze of dreamland I hear the first signs of life. The sharp, annoying, poke-your-brain-with-a-stick signs of life. Rerun. In case you have had the misfortune to never be acquainted with beagles, let me explain these little hounds don't bark usually, they bay. That means instead of being greeted with barks or yaps you get an ear-splitting AHH-WOOOOOOOOOO. You get used to it. Really. Rerun, however, never got the memo about how a proper beagle is supposed to sound. Oh no, this little oddball sounds more like a car with a bad starter. ERR-ERR-ERR-ERR-ROW! That sound can pierce through the most pleasant dream and make you long for things like tri-color fur slippers. That was the first thing to wake me up. Next came The Kid.
Well, technically I did get to sleep past 8am. It was 8:18 when The Kid came in, ran up to my face yelled "Wake up Mama I need to talk to you!" and straddled me so I couldn't run away. There's no coffee in the world with the wake up power of "Toddler On Bladder", lemee tell ya.
"What do you want to talk about, Kiddo?" I mumbled, knowing that sleep was not gonna happen anymore.
"SUPAH LETTERS!"
"Super letters, huh? What about them?"
"SuperFly (Super WHY, a show on PBS I hate) and Alpha Pig *something something*"
"Uh huh. Okay. Listen, can you get off me? I really need to pee." I'm so feminine, aren't I?
"Princess Pee?" (Princess PEA, another character on the show)
It was at this point I tried to play dead, hoping The Toddler, like The Grizzly Bear, would lose interest. You'd think I know better by now. Cue a toddler hand on each cheek, squishing my face into a fishy shape and shaking my head all around while yelling, "MAMA TALK TO ME!!!!"
"Can we talk about WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOUR BRAIN?"
"My brain. Yes. It's sick, Princess. We need to fix it. Open your mouf."
At this point thankfully my mother decided to check and see where The Kid was, which distracted him enough to allow me to get up and shuffle to the bathroom. Of course I wasn't alone in there, good lord, no. Privacy? In a bathroom? Surely ye jest! Nope, I got "The Doctor" sitting on the edge of the tub chanting rhythmically "Go Princess, go Princess, go! Go Princess, go Princess, go!" while I pee. After that, he handed me ONE square of TP to "dab dab" myself and asked to flush the toilet for me. It's kind of like having my own bathroom attendant, if bathroom attendants got tipped in fruit loops.
My last thought before heading for the coffee pot? I gotta blog this shit before I forget. Later I'll explain how Rerun became known as the household fart detector.
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