Monday, March 29, 2010

Giving me Crap

So everyone I know is pregnant. Well, not really, but so many women close to me are expecting that my uterus is sweating profusely and tugging at her collar. More on this later, unless I’ve driven you, understandably gagging, away from this blog forever.

(Sidebar: my dog is lying on the bed watching The Golden Girls right now…I love that furry beast. Ah! Her patience is rewarded! A commercial for Purina One just aired.)

Yesterday I got to spend time with my two year-old nephew, who informed me after a moment of intense concentration that his baby doll was named “Chit.”

“Chit?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Yeah,” he replied, a devilish grin developing. “Shit. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!”

It was the first time I’d heard him swear (and so gleefully!), and I laughed so hard I’m pretty sure I pre-digested the dinner I ate an hour later.

I’m not supposed to be encouraging this kind of behavior, but that's what aunties do.

In related news, last week I came home from work to find two black garbage bags piled against my back porch, red plastic ties fluttering in the wind. Were they J’s? What could be in them? Was someone messing with me? Garbage bombing me?

I decided to go inside and ask J. “Are those garbage bags yours?”

He frowned. “I thought they were yours!”

“They’re not mine…we don’t even BUY black garbage bags!”

Oh God … what if there were body parts inside? Perhaps this was the work of some kind of strange stalker-vandal. My paranoia, usually already simmering steadily beneath the surface, became a full, roiling boil.

Oh, please don’t be road kill.

I began to mentally list the sins I may have committed against my neighbors. Okay, there’s really only one, and sneaking into his yard at night to drop mosquito dunks in the cesspool flower planter near his garage is actually more of a public service.

What if it’s a dead cat?!

"What's in them?"

"I don't know...you look!"

Luckily, J is braver than I am, and he poked open one of the bags with a stick. He frowned. “I think it’s shit!”

I nearly fell to my knees and sang a hymn.

You weren’t expecting that reaction, were you? But I was soooo relieved. Because this was prime, scentless, well-aged goat manure from my parents’ herd, delivered by my Dad at my request so I can have big-ass flowers and delicious tomatoes this season.

(I promise my next post won't reference fecal matter in any way, shape, or form. Really.)

6 comments:

  1. ahh, that's what aunties are for! ;)

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  2. And now I'm glad that my hubby and I are both only children!

    Just kidding, little kids swearing is hilarious!

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  3. I'd be afraid of black garbage bags left for me too.

    Glad it was a sack of poo instead of something gross from your neighbors.

    (wow- what a strange sentence to write. And I meant it too!)

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  4. That's weird- everyone I know is getting divorced. It's crazy! Gep and I are trying not to wallow in our love.
    You know us though, always sucking face.

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  5. This whole post was hilarious but I espicially cracked up at the part where you talked about sneaking over to your neighbors yard with misquito dunk!!! Hahaha!

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  6. This sounds like something that would totally happen at my house! Ha! :)

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