Racecar mom wow mum poop
My world in 1,271 words (and TOTALLY worth the entire read):
I was scheduled to meet with a dude about an apartment for sale. The ad reported that the place was newly painted and clean, and since it was a rural area, the price was very reasonable. Asian said that she would go with me, so she drove us there.
At first glance, the place wasn’t exactly a renter’s paradise, but I had seen worse in my day too. It was a long way to come just to drive away (and the guy had made somewhat of an appointment with me and it would have been rude to not keep it), so I met him and walked inside.
To say it was small is an understatement, but hey, it was a studio. Nevertheless, the toilet was fit for perhaps a toddler, and the shower would have crowded me if I ever wanted to bend to shave my legs...the only appliance was a mini refrigerator with some mystery bottles of condiments inside the door with plenty of crumbs and whatnot scattered at the bottom tray. Let’s not forget the disgusting heap of three old mattresses stacked in the corner.
Ok, I thought, with a little elbow grease and a little work, this place might not be so bad. I won’t spend a whole lot of time here, but if I’m sleeping, maybe I won’t notice.
BUT WAIT, much more drama awaited.
Asian and I said farewell to the man and went back into the car, waiting until the doors were closed before we would comment about the place out of common courtesy that rude comments should not be heard in the presence of others (oh stop judging, you do it too). THAT’S WHEN I SAW IT.
No, make that a THEM.
There were hundreds of tiny black bugs all over my jeans, and I quickly opened the passenger door to wipe them off in a furious rush. I figured that they had jumped onto me as a result of walking through the tall grass on the way to the place, but who knows?
Anyway, we were hardly a mile down the road when I noticed some were still on me-and they were very hard to kill.
THEY WERE FLEAS. HUNDREDS OF DIRTY, ITCHY, JUMPY FLEAS.
We pulled the car to the side of the road and jumped out, flailing wildly for everyone to see (I sort of wish I was driving by us because it was a Kodak moment for certain) as we squirmed and shook to try to rid ourselves of them. We wondered whether they were on us or we just imagined them in the pure Disgusting of the moment.
The fleas had already hopped to all places in her car and seemed to be multiplying like rabbits in the rush of the moment. I was not freaking out other than trying to kill them-but those things are Masters of Elusion and jump away.
I think I heard one of the flying circus pipsqueaks laughing at me. Tsch, I showed him.
To finish the story and fast-forward to now, we cleaned up and are now reportedly flea-free.
The best part for me was that when everyone at work asked me how my weekend was, I simply responded, “I had fleas.”
Then I told the story and became Interesting for a whole 5 or 10 minutes (depending on what version I shared).
The end.
- Friday night, I visited the club where my soldier-boy brother (I refuse to bend to the masses and write 'soulja boy' because I'm not ghetto) is the fan favourite dj. It was monthly 80s Night, and his very good friend invited me to attend in his honour as it reflects the good nature of my brother quite well. It was actually a really fun time...at the place at least. It's nice to meet my brother's friends and see how much respect and esteem they have for him.
- Saturday, I did some errands and drove to Niagara Falls to spend the night with my recently-widowed grandmother. She is so dear, and we had a lovely time together. Nick and I talked about how I hope I die first between us because I'm not the type who can handle that sort of stuff emotionally, and he teased that he has to live to at least 100 so he can earn pension to an annoying age that is payback for all the taxes he paid before retirement. Ha!
Someone tried getting me to doubt the validity of my relationship with him--but then admitted that they don't know him well enough to judge where our hearts are or whether we're really suited to be in love with such obstacles (oh, little things like a few thousand miles and no money for starters).
I've heard this for years from those who want the best for me, but what if Nick IS the best thing for me? Do they consider that, too? Believe me, nothing creates more questions for a couple than those who can’t see each other, but if we can withstand that (and far more than people realise), I’d say we are to be encouraged and congratulated-but of course I’d say that.
To be quite honest, I have had to look at what we have objectively from every standpoint: spiritually, financially, morally, psychologically, everything. I face that every day just like anyone who is waiting to have their lifelong match-but I believe that we have worked through our problems surprisingly well and have an uncanny ability to communicate and understand each other.
Not wanting to be stubborn, I thought of all the reasons why I love him--after all, there should be reasons, right?--and decided that he is what I want for my life and I don't need or want to look anywhere else. I want to have a wise heart, but in this case, I believe at the core of my being--and not just my girlie/emotional heart--that this is the right course for my life right now. So you might see flaws in him, but I certainly have them too. We’re not rushing into marriage because there are things we need to learn, grow, and accomplish first-we want our foundation set with wisdom and plenty of thorough consideration.
So, I’m not saying everyone who asks me to take serious inventory of what I want and need out of life should keep silent, but I want them to take me seriously when I tell them that as far as I can tell (and I have a lot to go on), Nick fills all of those expectations, and then some. You may think that I’m blinded by love, but I’m also convicted and convinced through it at the very centre of who I am. - Sunday, I went to morning mass with her (I never felt as Protestant as I do when they all get up to take communion and I sit there trying to be respectful but feeling bad that they have to crawl past me just to get out of their seats), and they sang a hymn I knew from my youth. It was actually rather unifying for me to share in the experience because if there is one valuable thing I have found in working with people from literally every Christian background imaginable, is that God can generally be found anywhere and perfectly in nowhere. No one is perfect, but watching people do their best to serve Him from honest effort is heartening.
I was scheduled to meet with a dude about an apartment for sale. The ad reported that the place was newly painted and clean, and since it was a rural area, the price was very reasonable. Asian said that she would go with me, so she drove us there.
At first glance, the place wasn’t exactly a renter’s paradise, but I had seen worse in my day too. It was a long way to come just to drive away (and the guy had made somewhat of an appointment with me and it would have been rude to not keep it), so I met him and walked inside.
To say it was small is an understatement, but hey, it was a studio. Nevertheless, the toilet was fit for perhaps a toddler, and the shower would have crowded me if I ever wanted to bend to shave my legs...the only appliance was a mini refrigerator with some mystery bottles of condiments inside the door with plenty of crumbs and whatnot scattered at the bottom tray. Let’s not forget the disgusting heap of three old mattresses stacked in the corner.
Ok, I thought, with a little elbow grease and a little work, this place might not be so bad. I won’t spend a whole lot of time here, but if I’m sleeping, maybe I won’t notice.
BUT WAIT, much more drama awaited.
Asian and I said farewell to the man and went back into the car, waiting until the doors were closed before we would comment about the place out of common courtesy that rude comments should not be heard in the presence of others (oh stop judging, you do it too). THAT’S WHEN I SAW IT.
No, make that a THEM.
There were hundreds of tiny black bugs all over my jeans, and I quickly opened the passenger door to wipe them off in a furious rush. I figured that they had jumped onto me as a result of walking through the tall grass on the way to the place, but who knows?
Anyway, we were hardly a mile down the road when I noticed some were still on me-and they were very hard to kill.
THEY WERE FLEAS. HUNDREDS OF DIRTY, ITCHY, JUMPY FLEAS.
We pulled the car to the side of the road and jumped out, flailing wildly for everyone to see (I sort of wish I was driving by us because it was a Kodak moment for certain) as we squirmed and shook to try to rid ourselves of them. We wondered whether they were on us or we just imagined them in the pure Disgusting of the moment.
The fleas had already hopped to all places in her car and seemed to be multiplying like rabbits in the rush of the moment. I was not freaking out other than trying to kill them-but those things are Masters of Elusion and jump away.
I think I heard one of the flying circus pipsqueaks laughing at me. Tsch, I showed him.
To finish the story and fast-forward to now, we cleaned up and are now reportedly flea-free.
The best part for me was that when everyone at work asked me how my weekend was, I simply responded, “I had fleas.”
Then I told the story and became Interesting for a whole 5 or 10 minutes (depending on what version I shared).
The end.