I think not. The man came home with some mystery virus that kept him feverish and asleep on the couch all evening. He claims he didn't realize he was sick until halfway through dinner. I think he was trying to exact revenge for being made to sleep on a schoolroom floor for a week with a bunch of teenagers while I reveled in the comforts of home.
But that's all right - I'm no slouch at revenge myself (18 years of marriage will do that to you). I forgot to put Susie's diaper on last night, which negligence resulted in her peeing all over him at 5 this morning.
Larry changed and relocated (grumpily) to the couch while I dealt with changing Susie and stripping the bed. As I was contemplating what to do about the wet mattress, Susie (who was standing next to me) provided her assessment of the situation. "We have a problem here," she said.
Um, yes, we do, sweetie. As in, you should have peed in your own bed.
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I'm impressed with the creativity in Friday's comments (and, uh, did anyone "get" my post title that day? Just wondering...). The appliance poetry ranges from ee cummings to Shakespeare. You really should check it out and send in your own.
If I'm feeling really ambitious, I'll post the entries tomorrow and set up a poll so people can vote for the best one. I should have plenty of time to figure that all out, as I'm still not talking to Larry.
Oh, and Mom On The Verge shared this website. It features appliance-repair haikus. The internet is a strange and wonderful place indeed.
If I'm feeling really ambitious, I'll post the entries tomorrow and set up a poll so people can vote for the best one. I should have plenty of time to figure that all out, as I'm still not talking to Larry.
Oh, and Mom On The Verge shared this website. It features appliance-repair haikus. The internet is a strange and wonderful place indeed.
Of course I got your title. (Hmph, says the English major.) Because you would not shop in debt, debt kindly hunted you down. Off to check your comments now.
ReplyDeleteI didn't get cuz I'm just not cultured enough.
ReplyDeleteoooh! The ole leave the diaper off and wait for revenge trick. Nice!
ReplyDeleteIt was unfortunate that you ended up changing the bed though. Next time, put larry AND the baby in the same (non-your) bed.
Now I am challenged to try at least one verse...:) The AC poem would win hands down though! The haiku site was hysterical...I like the directions...
ReplyDeleteHope you don't get sick :p
Pax.
I would think you would have plenty of experience in what to do with wet beds by now.
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of romance . . . what is it with us women and our appliances?
Yes I loved your post title. I tried to leave a comment but my connection was oogy and wouldn't let me.
ReplyDeleteI was too tired to contribute myself, but I will pass on a gem I read somewhere once. Emily Dickinson's poem "Because I would not stop for Death" fits PERFECTLY in the tune for Gilligan's Island! Try it! You'll see. You'll be humming that classic for days.
I did get it (I love Emily Dickinson) and Cheri did a great parody just now.
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of home improvements (because it is too early in the morning for my brain to tackle poetry)... have you been to a Habitat for Humanity "ReStore" yet? We just got one in our neighboring town.
ReplyDeleteMajor bummer about the wet bed. Funny how they don't see themselves as responsible. Here's to your health, more poetry and more cowbell. Oh, and more new appliances. My new washing machine still has me waxing poetic--"Oh Amana, shall I compare thee to a week without children? Thou art so soft, so quiet, so clean. Your lovely chime when the load is done, is as refreshing as the morn's son. The sleek, smooth steel of your spinning core, always leaves me wanting more."
ReplyDelete