Saturday, March 31, 2012

The day I realized I'm really a 70 year old woman

who probably lives alone watching Wheel of Fortune and eating canned tuna with her 28 bajillion cats. (Yes, bajillion is the scientific term. Trust me.)

A few weeks ago I had gone to bed, like I tend to do prior to midnight but just barely. I was just slipping into the deep ocean of rest when the dogs started barking. Well, it was probably only one dog but after midnight they both sound the same to me. I stumbled out of bed, opening my bedroom door and hissed into the darkness "SHUT UPPPPPPPPPP". Silence followed.

I closed the door, laid back and bed and took a deep breath. Almost instantly I was free falling into the clouds of slumber when suddenly there went the dog again. I jumped up, angry and prepared to possibly beat something. The barking of course wakes me up and that's awful but it has the potential to wake Wilbur up. And a woken up Wilbur is WAY more terrifying to me than I am to the dogs. Obviously.

As I marched out into the living room I realized that my house was shaking slightly. I could hear music in front of our house on the street and loud voices of teenagers.

I stomped to the front door, flipping on my porch light and yanked open the door.

And this is where you have to really close your eyes and see this this in your minds. Because what the teenagers outside saw was me, with my long hair experiencing a mad case of bedhead and sticking out in all directions wearing a mint green nightgown with cats all over it that hangs roughly down to my knees and does nothing to hide the fact that I gave up my bar earlier in the evening. I also, for affect, was wearing red pajama bottoms with snowflakes on them, in flannel. And I was mad. Very, very mad.

I screamed something to the effect of "Turn that damn music down, I have kids and your going to wake them up. SHUT UP."

I might as well have waved a rolling pin and yelled "you damn kids get off my lawn".

All the kids stopped and stared at me. My blurry vision caught at least one kids jaw drop.

As the neighbor kid began to apologize I slammed the front door, locked it and turned off the front light.

I turned around to see Micah standing there, trying not to laugh and fairly evaluate the situation.

He should have hailed me as a hero because the noise from the street died instantly.

Instead he said something like "I didn't know you had turned 70 on your last birthday".

Whatever. Me and the cats are perfectly content. Now where is my Pat Sajack?


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