Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Since, apparently, I have nothing left to lose.

First, I would like remind you about the time I was taking a precious 30 seconds to myself when Alice slid the turkey thermometer under the bathroom door and declared "Here, mom, this will tell you when you are done."

Then I would like you join me in laughing a little too loud and a little too long because I assumed that would be the first and last bathroom story I would feel the need to share in a public forum.

Duh. MOM = endless supply of "hysterical" stories that take place in a room that prior to children I was able to pretend didn't exist when in the company of cute boys. 

So it's Sunday morning, when I find myself daintily perched on the unmentionable porcelain throne while wearing my new favorite skirt which happens to be 6 layers of flowing olive green floor length chiffon. Minding my OWN business! In a rush to get out of the house and to my very dignified calling as a Sunday School teacher for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints...

...when under the small crack at the bottom of the door...

...followed by the frantic sound of claws, furry bodies slamming, and general low to the ground chaos...

...a big,

slithery,

toothy,

sharp fingered,

lizard! comes FLYING across the floor, smacking into my bare feet, and then SCRAMBLING UP MY DRESS. 

I was actually surprisingly calm and collected; as long as that description includes shaking my skirt like it was on fire until finally swatting this damn thing off, grabbing handfuls of the suddenly excessive layers of slippery fabric and holding my legs straight out in front of me while shrieking "HELP ME! HELP ME! HHHHHEEEEELLLLLLPPPPPPP!!!"

Now for just a second I would like you to imagine my sweet husband brushing his teeth, minding his own business, and also being the only person left in this house who affords me any bathroom privacy. I can't imagine there are many things you would like to hear more than your wife scream behind a closed bathroom door, and for his polite knocking on the door I thank him.

But for his polite knocking on the bathroom door?! When I'm screaming "HHHHHEEEELLLLPPP!" I also kind of sailor curse him.

"JUST OPEN THE DOOR!"

"Why?"

Is that fear I detect from you, dear husband? I'm in here with a prehistoric creature and YOU'RE AFRAID?!

So of course I calmly responded with inarticulate rage yipping and hollering while my legs began to threaten lowering the remaining dripping fabric close enough to the floor to allow another reptilian scaling.

"Open. The. Door." Said in the scariest voice I could manage which finally prompted the cautious turn of the handle and revealed not only Jon, but both of my darling children and two evil cats, all with eyes as big as silver dollars.

I wish I could tell you I had the common sense to have pulled my skirt up around my waist in the beginning so that when this grand picture opened I could have been sitting like a proper lady, legs propped up, cheeks covered... but I'm afraid I did not want any part of my cute new skirt sitting on the back of the toilet so instead it’s wrapped around my thighs and my eyes were shut so tight I was almost sure that if I couldn't see them, they couldn't see me, right?

Eyes shut, legs giving out, brain about to explode and all I can get out is "Lizard! LizardlizardlizardlizardlizardlizardLizardLIZARD!! LIZARD!!"

Thank goodness Jon saw the size of it, exclaimed "Whoa!" and finally jumped into action!! Unfortunately it was to find something to pick it up with. I repeat: SOMETHING TO PICK IT UP WITH.

I am not ashamed to admit the next words out of my mouth were in line with my previous lady like conduct when I cried, "Jon King! So help me; you are a grown man, you were raised on a farm, your children are watching, and if you don't get this lizard away from my bare butt right this second I am returning you to your mother and requesting a FULL REFUND!!"

Needless to say he grabbed the dinosaur and quickly threw it out the back door saving our marriage, the lizard, and what little was left of my dignity. 

Which I needed so I could write this and obliterate it completely.

You're welcome  :)

1 comment:

Lorraine said...

Who needs dignity with a yarn like that????