Mystery of our bloggy friendship existence solved. All thanks to a little post about Mr. Reynolds.
Second, I have to tell you about my weekend, last weekend. (Draz, you might want to skip this
Ryan (my hubby, not Reynolds) and I pull up from our 2.5 hour trip to the Rez (my Mom lives on an Indian Reservation) from our beloved, but sweltering, Wichita with big plans of fishing at the pond and drinking endless cans of Bud Light from our already stocked cooler. Well, that plan…not so much. As we pull up, Mom is flapping her arms and Hardy (Mom's BF) is hauling a hose across the yard. We step out of the truck and Mom says, "The sewer is backed up. It flooded the basement. We can't run any water." Holy shit. Literally.
And I gotta pee! I’ve been freaking holding it for 2 hours now. (Not that I have any qualms about peeing in the bushes, but if there’s a potty around, I’d much prefer that.)
Well, we figured out, quickly thank the potty Gods, that the barn bathroom works and we could use those facilities. Yes, you read correctly, I wrote BARN. The only problem with the barn bathroom, actually there are multiple problems, which include #1: it hasn’t been cleaned in about 8 months (not that we’re a gross family or anything, it’s just that no one uses it because we have perfectly good potty’s in the house) and #2 there are bugs. Lots and lots of bugs. Dead bugs. Alive bugs. BUGS. I don’t do bugs. Especially spiders. And the barn bathroom is a spider metropolis. *shivers*
But….I still gotta pee. I mean, at this point I’m dancing the little potty dance. So I grab the Clorox, also a light bulb (because Lord knows we can’t have light in there, it has to be as scary as possible in that I have to go into the spider metropolis damn near blind because of a damn burnt out light bulb) and all the courage in the free world to step foot in the den of darkness. First, I damn near fall off the step ladder because A. I’m still doing the potty dance and B. when I pulled the light cover down….yep, you guessed it…dead spider bodies. *BIG shivers*
The light went in; I climbed down the ladder w/o breaking my sweet neck and proceeded to turn my attention to the toilet. Holy Mother of grimy ass caskets. There are dead bugs on the seat. THERE’S DEAD BUGS ON. THE. SEAT.! What do I do? What do I do? Call Ryan. No, he’ll think I’m a wussy girl. And we all know I’m no wuss. Ughhhh, damn my pride.
Then comes the Clorox bottle. I freaking laid that sanitizing amazingness down like a 6 inch layer of snow. Then I waited. Watched it tear into that grime and dead bug guts like a pro. Then I doused it again. At that point, I felt mildly more comfortable wiping up the sludge. I continued the spray-fest and wiping till that bowl was a sparkly throne fit for Queen Elizabeth. (BTW, the whole time I’m still shaking my ass and bouncing up and down and wiggling my feet like a 6 year old girl trying to ‘hold it’.)
With the bathroom clean and my business done, I decided to inspect the basement. It can’t be that bad…right? Ohhhhh, it was. TP everywhere! Sweet Jesus. Luckily it stayed mostly on the concrete and didn’t overflow to the carpet. But still. There were carpet swatches on the concrete that needed to be hauled out to the garage and sprayed off; Mom and I got that job done while the boys went to dump the trash. I’m pretty sure we got screwed on that deal.
Once all was cleared out, Ryan and I finally snuck down to the pond to get a little fishing in before it was too dark. And to drink the now MUCH NEEDED Bud Light.
However, drinking all that beer probably wasn’t the brightest idea when you need to use the facilities and you have to walk outside to the barn (because, of course, the plumber wasn’t able to come until the next day). I never said I was a genius people. And that’s exactly what happened…..3 TIMES. Who pees 3 times in the middle of the night except geriatrics that are over 85 and someone with a bladder disorder? Jeez. It couldn’t just be a normal, walk out of the house and toodle over to the barn and you’re done. Nope. Its: walk out in the complete pitch black night, trying not to trip over the three humongous dogs that lay right by the back door, then pray to the Good Almighty that you don’t accidently step in dog poo on your trek through the grass to the barn. Oh my God. Can my life get any better? Oh, ya, it can. Because when I woke up, cranky as all Hell from lack of sleep, complaining about my 3 trips to the potty, my adorable (and I'm being a smart ass here) husband says, “Well, I just went out the basement back door.” Of course you did. Because you’re a boy and boys are graced with the facilities to pee outdoors without squatting in God knows what silently fretting that a spider doesn't crawl up your hoo ha. Christ.
The plumber did come Saturday morning. Fixed the clog. Life turned all daisy’s and rainbows. I got to shower. And I didn’t have to venture to the Satan spider den ever again.
This really is my life.
On another note: We need to bow our heads because there has been a loss. Yes, Ben and Jerry (my thighs) have a lost an inch of their girth. Silence please. OK….WOO HOO! That’s what I’m talking about bitches!! A whole INCH. And I lost another .5 lb! Today is a good day.
Lastly, I promised some engagement pictures of my besty Tina and Ryan. Well, here’s a sneak peak.
Could they be any more cute?!?! I’m so thrilled with the pics! And they love them too. All in all, another successful photo shoot!
Ok, I'm off like a prom dress.
Peace out homey's!