Get your Show My Face and 6WS buttons HERE!

If you aren't receiving email replies to your comments, please see this post.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Mr. Rogers didn't live in my 'hood

This post was inspired in part by the amazing and fantabulous Princess Andy. It's entirely possible her posts aren't for the prudish or faint of heart but they sure as hell are for me.

Anyways, she posted a couple of days ago about a nightmare involving stuff gushing from her bathroom ceiling. This reminded me of a story involving the bathroom in our first apartment after Joe and I were married. Which then reminded me of another story involving that same apartment. I allowed Andy to pick which of the two she'd prefer me to share first and so of course you shall first be blessed with the story involving my nakedness. Just a warning that this post may have a "squeamish" quotient that has nothing to do with aforementioned exposure of my body.

Here goes...

It was May of 1999. Joe and I had lived in this craptastic awful little apartment since our wedding in August of the year before. After almost a year of obnoxious neighbors, fire alarms, attacks by killer bees, kids peering in our bedroom windows, seepage from the ceiling and almost being electrocuted by our stove, we were thrilled to be moving soon to a newer, nicer apartment.

A week or so before the move, our "home" an obstacle course of boxes, Joe was at the sink shaving when I stepped into the shower. I turned on the water and reached up to adjust the shower head. This is because Joe is much taller than I am and just like he never puts the toilet seat down, he also never readjusts the shower head. Anyways, I reached up and the shower head felt... fuzzy. Wait, what? Fuzzy?

As I pulled my hand away from the offending fixture, I realized there was a millimonster on my hand. I don't know what other people call them but I call them millimonsters. They are furry and have eleventy bajillion legs and they run like Olympic sprinters.

I did what anyone would do in my situation. I screamed like the girl I am, flicked that beasty off my hand, stepped in the toilet on my way out of the shower, grabbing my towel mid-stride and demanded that Joe take care of the situation IMMEDIATELY. He gallantly killed the savage predator and then scooped it onto a fly swatter to dispose of it outside. I, of course, followed him, still ranting and raving like a lunatic someone whose very life had been threatened by a ferocious foe.

"OMG I hate it here. I am so glad we are moving out of this HOLE of an apartment!!! This place SUCKS!!!" I screamed at him as he tossed my assailant into the yard across the parking lot.

It was at this point that I happened to realize I was outside, in my towel. Also outside? A small U-Haul, a young girl, and what appeared to be her mother. The girl sort of waved. "Hi, I'm moving into 3a".

What other response was there? "I'm sure you'll love it here."

P.S. My most heartfelt apologies to Andy for making her think she had missed something serious and throwing her into a tizzy. And I totally mean that because I have been in exactly that situation before and it is not fun.

17 comments:

the iNDefatigable mjenks said...

*shudder*

My wife has that same issue with the shower head. That's why I put in some new ones that are taller. The kids like them more, too, because it's like standing in the rain.

the iNDefatigable mjenks said...

You know, I have to say...telling me that the posts aren't "for the prudish or the faint-of-heart" pretty much caught me, hook, line and sinker.

C. Beth said...

That is SO funny! It was a good story with just the millimonster, but the little girl made it a GREAT story.

Lora said...

I forgot about the time I got electrocuted by my stove.

Ugh, renting

Sunshinemeg said...

HAhaa, this is a hilarious post. Scary, but hilarious.

Vodka Mom said...

i still love your bio..........

Debbi said...

some dreams just seem soooo real! lol

Good choice, Andy.

Princess Andy said...

if it was anybody else i wouldn't have been so concerned.

but because you're full of awesome, i hate to let you down!

please relax that there was no pulling out of my hair or heart palpitations.

i saved that for when i took the dog to the vet clinic;)

andy

p.s. i love it that you were so pissed off you stepped in the toilet...that probably enraged you even more.

p.p.s. this is but one reason why you'll be a great mom someday...because you can be completely freaking out about shit and then in a split second put on a "comfortable nice" to relax a child.

Guttermouth said...

I'd have screamed and ran like a girl too. I don't do bugs.

I sure hope the girl enjoyed her time in 3A!!! lol

blognut said...

As you probably know, I would have passed out, hit my head, and probably drowned in the toilet bowl.

I would never have made it to the parking lot in my towel unless the ambulance guys took me out on the stretcher that way.

Eric said...

At least you managed to get the towel. :)
Unexpected insectery is unpleasant.

a corgi said...

I would have been right with you, anything crawling or fuzzy is not welcomed in this household especially if it has a lot of legs. this was a cute story and had me laughing; thanks for sharing it :)

betty

TMC said...

Doesn't compare with a millimonster (with which I'm unfortunately familiar), but I've got carpenter bees eating my house. Ah, nature.

mo.stoneskin said...

I too would have screamed, singlehandedly flushing my manhood down the toilet. Metaphorically, I must add.

2cats said...

I wish bugs of any size could read. I would make a fortune on "NO BUGS ALLOWED" Signs. I hate bugs too. I think they are the reason God invented husbands.

Just say Julie said...

Too funny! I've run out to get the a delivery in a towel before, and had nightmares that I would find myself locked out.

We have a rain shower head that I love because neither the hubs or I has to adjust it. It's tall and pointed straight down.

Tori_z said...

Well, up until the going outside in just a towel part I'd have done the same. However, I would have said something along the lines of, "good for you... Personally I can't wait to be out of here. But, hey, it's your funeral." Which is very simular to what I said to my honorary sister when she moved in to the housing estate I'd just moved out of.