I don't even know if I can tell you this whole story and get all the details in! I will give it the old school try though. Fasten your seat belt...this one just may knock you down!! TRUE OR FALSE???
After working the midnight-8am shift, I came home and got to bed a little before 9am. I slept great. Right up until 01:00pm. I woke up and my body was saying "let's go!" while my head was thinking "what? huh?"
I tried my best to listen to that voice in my head. Willing my body to just calm down and take another little siesta. 4 hours was not going to get me through the night, I knew that right away! After an hour of tossing, turning, checking and re-checking my phone...to see what time it was or if anyone had sent me a text message (that I normally would scream about if they had), I finally just got out of bed.
Downstairs we go. We, as in me and Buddy. Of course he doesn't let me get too far out of his sight when I'm home and he hates it when I leave.
As I walk into the kitchen, I am SMACKED IN THE FACE with the most horrid and putrid smell I have ever smelled. And it had to have been pretty bad because since I had a cold a couple of weeks ago, I haven't gotten my sense of smell or taste completely back yet. So yeah....it has to be bad to make me think it's horrid, and I trust that it was.
I started out by putting all dirty dishes on top of the counter, nice and neat. Stacking biggest to littlest and lightest amount of "grime" to heaviest. I got my dish water ready and as I drop all the silverware/utensils in the water to soak, I decide to get the Mean Green out and so I can douse the stovetop and counters and let it soak into the grease and grime that my dear husband left for me the previous night before we both scooted off to work.
Ugh! I took the cleaning bucket out to the car to take to the farm the other day and it is STILL in the car. L-A-Z-Y!!! I then remember that I have a bottle in the upstairs bathroom. But I don't want to go upstairs. Quintin is asleep and well.....I'll be honest...I didn't want to walk the steps. So outside it is!
Flip flops on and out the door I go...going to great lengths so Buddy doesn't see me head to the door or he will try to go out with me. I get out to the car and the door won't open. Duh Shellie it's locked. Of course it is. And the keys are in the house. Of course they are!
As I turn the knob to go in the house.....it won't turn. It is locked. Oh dear. Oh man. Oh crap!!! The door is locked and my keys are in the house and Quintin is upstairs asleep and my phone is.....CRAP!!! The phone is also in the house. And Buddy isn't tall enough to unlock the door!
Me and my big ideas.
I walk around to the back side of the house; let myself into the dog fence...making Annie think I was coming to play...to get to the back door only to find it locked as well. WHY do I always lock the doors behind me? WHY???
So I pull up a chair...at least we have one of those on the back porch...and knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock (you get my drift, right?) constantly. At one point I got to playing with Annie while listening to Buddy cry inside the house because I was outside and he wasn't...and my knocking, although consistent...had turned to minor pecking.
I hear something and just as I look up, I see Quintin had come downstairs to see me sitting there, playing with Annie, and he says, "It was you?" as he walked away. Yes...he walked away. I stand up and say, "Hey, let me in! I locked myself out!" But to no avail. He was already the stairs and back in bed! What. The. Hell!
You can imagine just how infuriated I was at that point. I let myself out of the dog pen and went to the bathroom window. I remembered that Quintin had told me once that he let himself in that way. The screen is already off (I wonder why that is???) so I try to push the window up. It isn't going anywhere. Maybe it was locked.
Nope. I distinctly remember making sure it was unlocked because I thought we could get the screen put back on and I could open that window up in the next day or two. Ok so I know it is unlocked for sure at this point.
My noodle arms worked and worked and worked and FINALLY got the window to start budging. I tell you what, I felt like a champion when I got that thing to finally open. Now I know how those athletes feel when they win at the Olympics!!!
Okay the window is open and the only problem I am foreseeing is getting my not-so-small stature hoisted far enough up to actually throw myself through the window. Buddy is standing there happy to see me. And I think he was considering jumping out just to join me!.
You might be thinking, "Just pull yourself up to the window," right? That is what a normal person would be thinking I suppose but I'm not normal and like I mentioned above...I have a not-so-small stature. I knew, with the siding stuff (yes, that's what I'm going to call it) around the windows, I would surely crack it upon hoist and there was no way I was going to test my husband with that today!
I looked around for something to step up on and find nothing. Any other day of the year I could find any piece of junk laying around that my husband so conveniently left for future use but NOOOOOOO!!! NOT today!!!
We have some rocks. Bigger type rocks that line our flower gardens. I will just grab some of those...pile them up...get up on top of them and climb in the window. Easy peasy!!!
Easy peasy, yeah!
I took three big rocks and stacked them and then got up on them just for them to tumble. Rats! So I take the same rocks and stack them back up and go get some other rocks and put around them so that the rocks I need to stand on, can't move. That took me a little bit...to get all the rocks I needed.
By the time I was done, I had a mini stage. Why didn't I just do that in the first place??? So up on my stage I go. Very steady! Good job Shellie! I lean into the window and of course, Buddy thinks I'm playing with him. My head and upper body are hanging inside and he runs and gets his toy skunk and lays in (literally) on top of my head.
So now...anytime I move my head...he thinks I'm going to take it from him and he tries to grab it. And I get to laughing. And my bottom half is still hanging out the window. Now I need to pee. This isn't going so well. Why do I have to lock all the doors???
Inch-by-inch I am crawling my body inside my own home...while my dog is pulling my hair...along with a stinky, squeaky skunk...and there seems to be a nail. Not a huge nail but one just big enough to catch the top of my thigh...and then grabs my shorts. I tried to get myself unhooked but at this point, I just wanted to get inside before someone saw me.
For all I know, the whole town was outside taking pictures. I should have just peed!!
Inch by miserable inch, the nail rips through my shorts. I am far enough in the house now so I start squirming out of the shorts. I figured I would try to save them if possible. I fall to the bathroom floor only to get this wet, stinky skunk dropped on my face. I am in my t-shirt and underwear. At some point, those flip's done flopped off my feet. My shorts are hanging inside the window...by a nail...ripped almost the whole way down and I feel like if I move any part of my body...I will pee in my underwear.
Hey, at least I am inside the house, right??? And then the thought hits me..."I could have just walked up to the store and called Quintin from the very beginning!" Oh man!!!
Carefully, I make it over to the toilet and what, before my wandering eyes, appeared??? My wonderful husband in the mirror...coming downstairs.
"Good morning sweetie. How has your day been?"
I think I need a do-over!!!
Until next time...thanks for reading!!! (P.S. the kitchen is clean now)
No comments:
Post a Comment