My mom can't come to the blog right now. She's out in the driveway shaking her fist at the sky while muttering something about wanting a cheeseburger. I think it has something to do with the fact that she woke up this morning and realized that it was going to be 54 degrees outside, which, for my stupid mo-ther, is a tropical heat wave.
This yearning for a cheeseburger lead her to the garage and the bar-be-que grill. Normally, my Aunt Chrissy comes over and opens the garage door and hauls all of the summertime crap around the house and deposits it onto the patio, but Mom decided that she wanted to see if she could be a grown up and do it all herself this year.
Alas, it was not to be.
See, before hauling all of the crap around the side of the house, Mom wanted to wash the patio so that it would be all clean and sparkly and devoid of any Stewey pee. (At least that what she told me when she tried to find her outside shoes in the bottom of the closet and a pair of sweatpants that wouldn't cause the neighbors to call the home owners' association.) The outside shoes never made it outside, but she did manage to find a pair of size 10 men's slippers that she got at the WalMart one year with the hopes that they would be simple and chic'. (They're not. Trust me about this.)
When Mom stepped off the patio to go hook up the hose, she fell out of the size 10 men's slippers and right into a big 'ol pile of dog poo that Aunt Chrissy had shoveled off of the patio sometime this winter.
I don't need to tell you what kind of words started flying out of her mouth, but I can reveal that I learned a few new cuss words to use on the school bus some morning.
So what should have been a simple 10 minute task has turned into an afternoon of scrubby showering and clothes washing and more scrubby showering and more clothes washing. When I finally got a good look at her a few moments ago, she was missing at least seven layers of skin, and her face was beet red from all of the aggravation over just wanting a freakin' cheeseburger.
Needless to say...I don't think there is going to be a whole lot of anything accomplished around here tonight other than some heavy guilt laying on a) Aunt Chrissy for throwing the poo in the yard and b) me, for pooing on the patio in the first damn place. (You'll notice that my pesky cousin Bosco is nowhere to be found in this whole mess, despite the fact that the very first thing he does whenever he comes over for a visit is...you guessed it...poo.)
I'm going to grab the Kindle and head to my fort for the duration. I might also grab a few stitchy projects to see if I can help the old lady out a bit by adding a row or two here and there. If I'm not back in a few days, please alert the authorities, and remember me fondly.
With love from your pal,