Sunday, May 29, 2011

Toilet Time

A few nights ago I almost died of fright. 

But let me start at the beginning.

Halfway through the night I woke from a cozy dream with a straining bladder.  Rolling over and ignoring it was no longer an option because I had already done that 5 times and said bladder had finally reached maximum painful capacity. 

But why not get up the first time the 'ole bladder woke me you ask?  Well...  Because of the following:

1.  Somewhere under the covers is an ear flapping time bomb known as the butt rat snuggler.  Whenever she notices me shifting awake she bolts from the folds of JS' tush using only her sharpest toes to dislodge herself.  After breaking the surface of the covers and reaching fresh air she immediately flaps her sonar devices (ears) loudly enough to wake the neighbors and possibly the dead, if they were somewhat light sleepers.  This absolutely infuriates the Grisly Bear, otherwise known as JS, and can lead to a middle of the night (somewhat incoherent) tirade.  Lives may be threatened and grudges will be held.  Indefinitely.

2.  Our bed is over 4 feet tall with a marvelous memory foam topper that is damn near impossible to extract yourself from without the help of a crane and, or a well placed, freshly sharpened Chihuahuan toe as incentive. 

3.  Somewhere down in the darkness is the sleeping Akita.  She is guaranteed to wake just as you have carefully straddled all 96 pounds of her body, potentially throwing everyone to the ground.  At the minimum you will sacrifice a delicate pinky toe to her senile flailing.

So this particular night I somehow manage to slide from under the covers without waking the ear flapper.  The Akita is alerted to my presence because my ankles are so incredibly sore that I cannot walk in the middle of the night without a very loud shuffle, slide, shuffle, slide, kick ball change, shuffle, step.  I'm certain she can't actually hear me but thankfully she can feel the vibrations.  I make it to the potty without incident, a first in many days and proceed to blissfully empty my painfully full bladder.

I'm just about to dose off in the darkness when I am scared to attention by a very loud girlish scream a mere 3 feet from my face.  After levitating and loosing the rest of the contents in my bladder, I realize I'm not actually under attack.  I have only startled my dearest JS with my stealthy potty presence.  Apparently he didn't feel the vibrations. 

I immediately scream at him because it's 3 in the morning and I have just suffered SEVERE fright if not, in fact, an actual heart attack. 


This seems to really amuse JS and he begins giggling.  A lot.  I bolt from the bathroom with my adrenaline laced indignity and stomp back to bed.  I can still hear him giggling as I curl up with my sweet little Chihuahuan, who promises to never, ever scare me like that.  As I eventually dose off I'm pretty sure I hear the Chihuahua giggle a little bit too.


  1. Oh, they are all laughing. And you two might as well get married, you're already there. ; )

  2. I knew something was awry when you made this comment! I should have known you were about to convert to the darkside ;) I think for me it's all about "Can't fix it if it ain't broken." To heck with your conventional trappings ;)