Swamp Thing....

My very active husband returned home the other day from a long hike.  His shins and thighs covered in large scrapes and dirt, he socks caked in mud, his shoes the hue of dog shit cooked soft in the summer sun.  He's an avid hiker.  I'm glad he has stopped badgering me to tag along.  I don't hike, or run, or ski, or climb, or jump, or bungee.

"Do you like my new water bottle?" he asked.

"Sure, it's great", I say as I glance over to the dirty looking aluminum bottle sitting on the steps beside me.

"Cool", he says...."but you can't throw this one out!"

Let's go back a little ways here.  Maybe a month ago my husband came home from one of his numerous hikes and plopped a dirty, scuzzy water bottle swathed in duct tape on to the counter while I was doing dishes.  When I asked him "What the HELL is that THING?"  He proceeded to tell me he had found it on his hike in the middle of the woods.  "SO YOU BROUGHT IT HOME?" I screamed.  He whined that it was a perfectly good water bottle...even with the duck tape.  If my eyes could have reached out and slapped him, they would have.  "You found it in the middle of the woods because it's a piece of shit and some dumbass litterer person threw it away....why in the name of all things holy did you pick it up?"  He looked at me and all of his sweetness, his innocense, his heart...was clouded by the most idiotic and asinine comment he could have made to me at that point...."cuz' it still works."  "THROW...IT... AWAY", I growled.  I could see his mind quickly trying to come up with a good excuse as to why he should not throw the duct taped relic into the trash...but he came up empty...as he should have...because there is no excuse...none.

So back to the present....all cuts, bruises and smiles, he proudly displays his "new" metal water bottle and forbids me to throw it away.

"Why would I throw away your water bottle?" I ask.

"Cuz' I found it in the middle of a swamp while I was lost." he answers.

"WHAT?  YOU BROUGHT HOME ANOTHER PIECE OF GARBAGE?  YOU PLAN ON DRINKING FROM THAT SWAMP THING?  THROW IT AWAY...I'LL BUY YOU A BRAND NEW ONE....I THINK WE CAN AFFORD A WATER BOTTLE."  I am baffled.

"No, wait...it IS new....there was a brand new tag on the inside!  It's not garbage!  Really...it's fine.  It just needs a good washing."

So, my husband has a penchant for returning home with other people's garbage...I think he's lost his mind.  (Too much alone time in the woods isn't good for anyone)  I think we're on the fast track for that show on TLC....you know the one?  Hoarders....Buried Alive!  As I write this...Bren is in fact hiking....and before he left I forbid him to bring anything home.  "But sometimes people find good stuff while hiking".  He whined.  "What if I find a $100 bill...can I bring that home?" 

"That would be mandatory....disregard all my rules of bringing home garbage if it is PAPER money (and PAPER MONEY ONLY).  I will welcome that swamp trash into my home with open arms.

That's all for now,

xoxox

Death Traps, Mouth Nipples, Water Bans, PMS....Oh Yeah...And I'm The Family Pussy... ****UPDATED****

I've had a week from hell.  I want to just wipe this week from the books and start fresh...but nope...it's still going.  Figures.

First, my driver's side car door lock broke.  I couldn't get in or out.  Death trap on wheels...ah yeah.  I climbed over the passenger's seat, and got a shifter in the ass one too many times...so it went into the shop.  $700 later...my lock works...but I now have to use 2 different keys....one to open up the door, one to turn on the car.  What the F*ck?  I still don't have my car, and it's one week later.

(this isn't my mouth...but my mouth nipple looked just like that)  (Wish I was cool enough to have a gold tooth)

I didn't realize until a reader mentioned it...that this pic above looks a little like soft core porn....well it's not...so get your minds outta the gutter!

Then...I went in to have that fibroma thingy on my inner cheek (a.k.a mouth nipple) removed.  I was so excited!  No longer would I be accidentally chewing off my cheek while eating.  But I should've just put a ring through that bastard and left it alone...because if I knew getting it removed would've sucked so hard...I would never have done it.  Long story short...Novacaine wore off, pain hit, I cried...a lot, Tylenol didn't do shit, Doc prescribed pain reliever strong enough to use on a newborn babe, we went to the emergency room in the middle of the night, 6 hours of waiting and an IV of some really really good make you smile drugs, CAT Scan, blood tests, stumbled home, doubled up on Percocet for 2 days straight, missed work, my mouth tasted like metal from the cauterizing chemical, swollen jaw, egg on the side of my face, couldn't get the toothbrush into my swollen mouth, and there was this whitish slimy, gooey shit growing out of the pit that once was a nipple.  It pretty much just sucked all around.  I have never in my life felt pain like I felt from that little "removal".  I think the doctor hit severed some nerves or something.  He said I had a low tolerance for pain...my husband said that translated to him calling me a "Pussy"...can you sue a doctor for being an asshole?  My father suffers from Rheumatoid Arthritis; my mother gave birth to me without so much as a whimper, moan, or curse word and I flew out in like one push; my sister had broken ribs while she was pregnant....basically...they can handle their pain.  But me?   Oh no... I get to be the family "Pussy"...and I got stuck with the small boobs too.  Genetics...they're a bitch.

(Broken Water Main in Massachusetts)

THEN...our town was part of a water ban/boil water order.    Some pipe burst in a neighboring town causing devastating water loss and 30 communities (2 million people) including ALL of Boston could not use tap water.  I thought Brendan might die from lack of Dunkin Donuts large iced coffees. 4 days of no dish washing...and the damn dishes are almost up to the ceiling!  We had to boil water to use to brush our teeth, wash our hands, water our cats.  It's not easy to pour water out of a kettle onto one sudsy hand, then lather and wash the other while trying not to get the kettle all sudsy or toothpastey or whatever.  It blew.  A LOT.  But it's over.  I can shower without fear of E.Coli getting in my eyes.  Let's just say the bottle of Purell got a lot of use.

And to top it all off...I was a raging bitch the entire week because it was that time of the month...nuff said.

That's All For Now,
xoxox