Saturday, November 8, 2008

Dirty Talk




It is 6:15 in the morning and I am ready to leave for work…but I can’t. My daughter is still eating breakfast and still has to get herself ready. My son is digging through the dirty clothes hamper to try to find something “clean” to wear for picture day…well…picture RETAKE day.

Poor Snickers the cat…she can’t help it that she came into our family AFTER I stopped having feelings. Her excrement stinks and the kids’ bathroom, aka Snickers home, is a wretched mess. Under normal circumstances (read: before I became a walking ghost)I would feel sympathy for the cat…I would cringe at the very thought of leaving it outside. Her pitiful mews and pleading eyes would have melted me instantly…but not now. Now I have to do whatever it takes to make sure that we live just above the fine line between filth and disgust. The gnats that hover above the dirty dishes in the sink are bad enough—but eventually proved to be an excellent decoration during Halloween. The mounds of laundry and morning beauty/prep paraphenaliea serve their purpose of hiding mold, grime, dust, and dirt embedded within the floor’s and countertop’s grout.

The very idea of having to worry about cat turds, kitty litter, ripped leather furniture, and cat hair…well…it’s enough to send me over the edge.In fact, it's enough to make me stuff an outdoor kennel with warm towels, a jingle bell ball, and some food and water.

No comments:

Post a Comment