As Offensive As Ever, With a Clean Carpet

How's this for a morning thought? "What the fuck is that guy doing in my box?" I didn't realize what I thought until I thought this. I probably would have said it out loud had John been here, but he's working and all, so I just thought it. This thought truly scrolled through my head as I looked out the front window not a minute ago to see a man on a ladder at our telephone pole. The box is for our cable line, and I suppose, some of the neighbors' cable lines as well, but the pole is in our yard and controls our cable, so it's our box. Or, since no one else is home right now, it's my box.

Oh wait, no� that's the phone, not the cable. I can't keep our services and their boxes straight. If you are bad enough to get why I was so amused by that thought, I commend you.

The box guy left, but now he's back. I wonder if I can get sued for putting his picture on the Internet. Heh.

As you can see, I'm in a pretty good mood today. And why would I be in a good mood when I've been in such a funk for countless days? Well, I'll tell you. It's because I have a clean carpet. I have a clean carpet that is still clean after having the family, especially the kids, home all evening after I cleaned the carpet. There is nothing like a clean carpet to cause a child to spill a 20 ounce pop all over the floor, if we actually gave out kids 20 ounce pops (that's sodas to you freaks that don't say pop). Since we don't let them have a whole lot of pop, they will spill juice or just slop a ketchup-covered french fry, pudding, milk, or whatever messy stuff they can onto the floor. They don't do it on purpose, and I know that, but I can feel my spine tighten like a spring being compressed whenever something slops onto my newly cleaned carpet.

Last night, that did not happen. Before we ate dinner, I said, "Let's try to be extra careful not have any spills tonight, so we can have one full day of clean carpet." John gave me a puzzled look. He actually had to ask, "Did you clean the carpet?" when he came home, even though it has to be fifty shades lighter than it once was and doesn't have large dark grey spots all over it anymore. Did you clean the carpet. Sheesh. And then he doesn't understand why I would ask for a little extra caution. I know for a fact that spills have occurred the very day I cleaned the carpet on at least two occasions, and the carpet never, ever stayed clean more than three days after I cleaned it. Ever. Considering I haven't cleaned the carpet that much, those two occasions would qualify as "most of the time," meaning most of the time, someone slops on my clean carpet the very day I cleaned it. So really, I'm just happy it made it past day one. After all the fuss I've made, I'm sure I will be the first one to mess it up.

Shampooing the carpet took me so damn long that I never got the fridge, so I most certainly never got to the truck. That leaves the fridge as today's job. The truck is just going to have to wait. It got a bath yesterday, even if it was a cheap-o run through the car wash, so that's good enough for it. The fridge on the other hand will not wait. I think I heard something say, "Shhh," and the sound of a tiny little crowd hushing when I last opened the door for milk this morning. I'm telling ya, I have life forms in there. They are probably planning my destruction right now. I have to get them before they get me. They will have to settle for partying in the garbage can in the garage. I'm sure they will have their revenge by being extra, special stinky. The garage is right under my bedroom, so the garbage can might have to reside outside this week, even though it's against borough ordinance. Just don't tell the mutated food, or it will surely call the cops. I can just see me getting cited for having a garbage can of unidentifiable food sitting in my driveway.

We do have clean clothes, so no articles of mutated clothing will be joining the food. I even got Hammy to bring home his gym clothes for laundering. It's a wonder oxygen tanks aren't needed in that middle school locker room. He's not very prompt in bringing his gym clothes home, and he said other boys haven't taken their clothes home at all. Their teacher's nasal passages probably burned out years ago.

Speaking of gym, my lovely daughter is not only smart, but she's strong too. They have been having physical fitness tests the past few days, and she did 24 push-ups; the real kind, not those sissy ones from the knees. She did the most in her whole class. She tied for second in the bent arm hang (whatever that is). Another girl was first. Booie tied the top boy in the class and another girl for second. I know it means nothing at this age, but it is nice to see girls getting the best scores in those areas traditionally dominated by boys. Booie takes great pride in her push-ups.

And speaking of physical fitness, I've been lazy loser-girl. I thought I got past that, but I obviously didn't. I've put of working out all week long. Now it's Thursday. I can't believe it. I will work out today. I will. I will. I will.

Right now, I will stop putting things off by continuing to write.