Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Yesterday...it seemed like it went on forever!

Follow-up from yesterday's blog

The construction dudes never did accept my cake as a peace offering.  It's probably because I made it several days ago and due to the unusually warm September weather, the butter cream frosting under the glass dome is starting to separate and ooze across the bottom of the cake dish.  I wouldn't eat it either.  The only ones brave enough to ask for it are the boys and even they're starting to look a bit leery at it.

So to recap, Tank was taken to the vet and diagnosed with an uncomfortable scrotum shave.  He runs and cowers when he sees me approach him with an outstretched finger glopped with some sort of creamy substance.  (Trust me Tank, I don't like it any more than you do!)

My hallway is now blocked with a huge, yellow scaffolding.  There is brown butcher paper taped to all of my rugs, plastic wrap attached to my carpet, blue tape on my walls, pieces of tile missing from my floor, electrical cords everywhere, and flies from the open front door buzzing around my coffee as we speak.  I thought I actually saw a wing fluttering below the surface but I'm not going to think about that right now.  I just need my coffee.  I'll consider anything extra protein - kinda' of like the worm in a Tequila bottle.  It's just going to be another one of those days and I know I'm going to need all the strength I can get.

After calling the guys, "Fucking Morons" loud enough to offend them and probably the rest of my neighbors within ear shot, the construction gentlemen quickly learned that cursing in my house was not only ok, but quite acceptable. In between my figuring out how to maneuver around five strangers and their equipment (which sounds oddly like a fantasy I have), I had to deal with a drugged out Tank who stood in one spot and would have pee'd on himself if I let him (of course, only when I didn't have to apply his medication), and Tulip, who was uncertain as to how to step on butcher paper. (Luckily for me it was on every other piece of the flooring - sarcasm.) This meant I had to continuously climb up and down stairs making bubble wrap popping sounds, avoiding scaffolding, electrical cords, strange men, and carrying two dogs separately - because I can not manage two snarling, hissing beasties at the same time - to change the sheets off the beds only to do it all again going downstairs to start the laundry.  Boy, were my 4-letter words flying!  Leave them in one spot, you say?  Have you ever heard a dog with a shaved scrotum howl?  I believe no more needs to be said on this topic.

When the guys were getting ready to leave, they asked me if they could leave their tools over night; nail guns, electric drills, high powered sanding machines.  I laughed.  "NO!"  

"By the way, Ma'am.  Is there a problem with this door? (Referring to Austynn's)  I noticed it was off..?"

"No.  It's in the basement.  But he's the reason everything must go."  They looked at me curiously but that was all the information I was willing to give.  Maybe they'll read my blogs one day.

They left for the afternoon as William and I left to pick up Austynn from school and headed out for another appointment.  Keep in mind, William was waiting in the car for me and he also loves to antagonize Austy.  My youngest keeps a therapeutic toy in my car for before and after school purposes.  His occupational therapist gave it to him and it helps to soothe him.  These type of toys are often used with autistic children and Austynn has grown quite attached to it.  It's a little battery operated bug that when held, vibrates and calms him down.  He calls it, "Buzzy". 

"Mom! Buzzy's battery is missing!"

Now, most of you are aware that a missing battery in my house is tantamount to a serious fire threat, especially when it has anything to do with Austynn. 

"WILLIAM!"  screams Austynn, "WHAT DID YOU DO WITH IT!"

"DON'T SCREAM AT ME OR I'LL KILL YOU!  I DIDN'T TOUCH YOUR STUPID BUZZY!!  DON'T YOU EVER ACCUSE ME AGAIN!"

Tears, yelling, commotion, all on the I-25 Interstate of Denver, the busiest freeway of Colorado.  I am pissed because I know it's a set-up.  Either William took it out to antagonize his brother and get him in serious trouble or Austynn took the battery, blamed his brother so he can play with the contraband, and try to recreate the electric telegraph. 

I pulled over.  Instant pocket check.  Am I worried about standing on the side of the freeway during 4:00pm traffic?  Not as much as I'm going to be if I don't find that pickin' battery.  The trunk and Good Will bags are searched.  Book bags are looked over (Why in God's name did I buy book bags with so many pockets?  My son's are kleptomaniacs for Pete's sake!).  I pull the seats apart.  I threaten.  Their lives are over as they know it.  No one will come clean.  They're holding firm on principle.  They're nothing if not stubborn.  What a crappy day!!  We show up 15 minutes late for William's therapy appointment.  I continue thinking about when or how someone took that battery.  In the meantime, the other battery and Buzzy are with me.

Home, dinner, homework, arguing.   Eric's cousin wants to move in with us.  Deep breath...  Indigestion.  My feelings get hurt.  How about a piece of chocolate?  Eh gads!  Time for bed!!!  Tank, sees me coming with an outstretched finger glopped with some sort of creamy substance. (Trust me Tank, I didn't like it any more than you did!).  I went to sleep but not really.  My imagination was playing tricks with me.  All I kept thinking was, is that fire I smell or do I really hear the clicking of an electric telegraph machine?











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