Tuesday, December 9, 2008

The Pee-Pee Game

I'm just laying there in my bed dreaming. I'm just dreaming and minding my own business (I don't think what I'm doing to Sinise in my dreams is illegal or even remotely wrong, besides I'm in REM. He can't complain.) when it happens. It never fails it happens all the time. Somewhere between squeezing the man's thighs and hoping he'll drown emotionally in the ginger warmth of my eyes, some long nosed Dachshund Beagle mutt puts his snout right into my eye socket! Good bye Gary, hello freezing cold backyard - - standing outside with a blanket wrapped around me for the next 4 minutes while the three of them (sometimes Faith waits until dawn to repeat this process) to do their little businesses - - why can't they do this at 11:00 p.m. when I'm going to bed. I don't wake them up to go pee. Seriously, I have never once pushed their butts off the bed when they're chasing rabbits or digging bones just to say "Hey, you know what. I'm going to the bathroom now. Let you know how it all turns out." I'm going to though...I swear some day I'm just going to do it.

The dogs are not the only ones routinely waking me up. When I move away I will still have to put up with the sisters fighting at 3:38 in the morning and one or the other of them calling me to see what my opinion of the situation is. Caity, who lives in the living room of my place now, will call me rather than walking down the hall way just to ask me if we have milk in the refrigerator. No, I'm not kidding - can you see where being able to deliberately go back into the arms of a warm and caring man, even if he's only a vapor of a memory from the last time I was interrupted, would be nice? I have the ability to lucidly dream and to actually somewhat put the man on hold and come back to him. I think he rolled over last night and said "No, forgetaboutit I'm going to sleep! Leave me alone." Poor man, poor poor fantasy of mine - even he was becoming a bit put out by all the distractions.

Reuben called at 7:01 a.m. which wouldn't ordinarily be a bad thing, but the dogs and the girls were enough to send me into a deeper slumber by that time. It wasn't coffee time, it was grab the last bit of darkness and get your butt back to sleep before the sun comes through your window time. Reuben's problem that just couldn't wait? (Remember it was something like 4:00 p.m. his time in Iraq.) He wanted to know if we were setting up a Christmas tree and where it would be! NO, I'm not kidding! Just about that time the dogs decided "Hey, she's up. We can go pee again." So, there we were; me and the mutts, dragging my Boomer Sooner blanket and doing the best impression of an Indian woman out on the wet Trail of Tears, barefoot with the sun barely coming up over the buildings behind me...just waiting on the dogs and explaining to my overtly traditional son (some many thousands of miles away, and far closer to the place Jesus was born mind you) that we weren't putting up a tree this year. I should never have admitted it, and I probably wouldn't have admitted it if my brain was working and if I had even 2 hours of uninterrupted rest - - but it was a normal night for me. I told the truth.

Reuben and his strict traditional ways will no doubt cost me this year. I'll have to go out and get a tree now, find the decorations I put in storage, not only wrap empty boxes to fake him out, but show him the presents I'm putting into the boxes before they get wrapped so he can open the file Christmas morning and see what the girls got, what I'm sending to him late, and what he and the girls collectively bought me. We weren't doing Christmas because we don't feel Christmasy this year. I got Caity a tattoo for Pete's sake. Do you think I should stuff her in a box and wrap it up ... good thoughts flowing in my head right now. OK, here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to go next door, borrow Yvonne's tree, put it up in my place, get the decorations from the storage closet, put them on Yvonne's tree, send the photos - pretend to wrap Caity, that will be cute, and I'll even bake cookies and send them EARLY so he can have white-icing outlined gingerbread men shaped like they've fallen off of buildings....I'm telling you, the boy is so traditional! He was 9 I think when I dropped a gingerbread man onto the cookie sheet and he looked dead so I outlined him in icing...now REUBEN thinks its a real holiday tradition.

I counted: I went to bed at 11:22 and got up at 1:11 to let the dogs out. Faith didn't go. I got called by the girls at 3:38 and settled their problem - yes, it was indeed me that had purchased the green ribbed top from Old Navy. Yes, it was a Medium and no they couldn't have it. The dogs had to pee again - I guess because I was up. I got the call from Reuben at 7:00 so there you go and all three dogs forced me out into the freezing rainy weather barefoot for 4 minutes. I am just too nice - I had a little over 3 hours of peace - - but the bad thing was that Sinise was by this time, on his virtual stomach refusing to kiss me back to sleep! Meanie.

NOW...it's coffee time...and he left! Oh well, I'm good at this. He'll be back. Smiles, because she knows, there's not a damn thing he can do about it. Hahahaha

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