This morning Dillon and I came home from our morning hike and I noticed something truly frightening! Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a kinda slow moving light colored rodent scurry/saunter across the hallway and then under the couch. Naturally, my keen self-defense instincts kicked in and I immediately froze in place and stared fixedly at the location. Because I'm not stupid, I totally knew that the slow saunter it used to get under said couch was a well-thought out trap to lull me into thinking it was not a threatening rodent-like creature, but was rather a sleepy non-threatening monster sent by nature to inspect my furniture placement choices -- and was also likely under some sort of California State Law protecting its right to claim my couch as its natural habitat.
While I stood there frozen, I carefully considered my options and came to the obvious conclusion that I needed to burn down the house. Cursing my inability to take up smoking and my subsequent lack of a fire starting utensil, I had to go to Plan B....send in Dillon to kill/scare/snuggle the creature. Not wanting to unnecessarily cause Dillon to panic, I suggested he go "get on the couch and watch TV!" Obviously, the option to watch TV is always the preferred choice and Dillon headed unknowingly toward the couch...
I'll admit I did have a small twinge of guilt for sending Dillon in unprepared, but that quickly passed when I remembered how Sunday was mother's day -- and also my birthday -- and Dillon didn't get me shit! Sure, it could be that he doesn't know how to use the internet and/or that he has bad credit and, therefore, doesn't have a credit card because he's a dog -- but I think we all know it's really because he's an asshole. So I let him go -- you know what you did Dillon!
So Dillon is heading toward the couch clearly thinking of how great it will be to watch re-runs of Animal Hoarders on DVR -- when out of the corner of his eye, he spots the vacuum that I had gotten out with the intention of actually using, but you know what they say about intentions....(let's just say my road to hell is now a four lane highway!) So Dillon proceeded to do what he always does -- he freaked the hell out and ran into the bathroom to hide in the shower -- which is apparently the only place in the house that is safe from vacuums/sheets/recycling/garbage bags/dust-mops -- you know, all the things that would kill you if given the chance.. -- leaving ME all alone to face the monster that dwells under the couch!
Seriously Dillon?? WHEN has the damn vacuum EVER attacked you? NEVER you jackass!
I stood there for a few more minutes waiting to see if it would attack, but then remembered that I had not had my cup of coffee yet - which totally trumps nature, FYI -- so I'm working up the nerve to make my way past the couch toward the coffee pot when I notice ANOTHER slow-moving animal coming from around the corner...and it was coming right for me! But slowly...really slowly. So slowly that I yelled at it to hurry the hell up and get under the couch because I need some damn coffee! -- WTF nature!? RUDE!! So anyway, as it gets closer I realize that it's not a couch monster - it's a damn tumbleweed of Dillon hair! AND, we weren't being invaded, we were just living in a dog-hair infested hovel because I never actually used said killer vacuum. So the lesson here is that I apparently need to: (a) wear my glasses so I can actually see shit; and (b) vacuum the damn house.
Get thee to an independent bookstore.
1 day ago