A Flying Mouse Saved My Day
/Or how when you hear someone talk about an accident and how no one can really be sure how they'll react during an emergency until they're in one?
Well, enough emergencies and crises have happened in my lifetime that I know exactly how I'll react during one.
If it involves my children's blood, I'm gonna vomit, then yell then vomit some more.
If it involves anyone else's blood, I'm gonna get all, 'let's sew this muthatrucker up using dental floss and my nose ring. Pass me a tampon to soak up some blood.'
If it involves lifting a car off of anyone, I'm gonna hold my lower back and call a tow truck while whispering apologies to the crushed.
If it involves someone or some dog I love dying unexpectedly, I'm going to shut down, go numb, impersonate a robot, wait a few weeks to cry a whole lot, get incredibly ill and buy a bunch of stuff off the internets in the meantime.
As my husband likes to say, I am a creature of habit and I like to stay true to form.
The upside is, you always know what kind of crazy you are going to get with me. Makes living in this looney bin a little easier.
For almost three weeks now, I've been fighting off a zombie virus, and I'll be honest, I'm not much better than I was when I first contracted this plague. The difference between now and three weeks ago though is my husband is entirely sick of my whining and he's leaving to go back to work tomorrow.
I'm trying not to pout too much about him leaving me to die alone and miserable with only his children to witness my decline since you know, he's been off work for over a month now and we've got bills to pay, mouths to feed, internet shopping sprees to account for. And really, if I have to hear the soft clomping of his crutches across our floor for even one more day I may lose my mind and beat him to death with them.
The zombie virus has a charming side affect of making me more irritable than usual. It should also be noted my husband is a damn saint.
Because I've been too ill to eat my feelings, I've channeled all my sorrow and dog loneliness into finding awesomeness on the internet.
Translated: Every time I miss my dog I buy something I don't need on the internet. That plan worked out really well until my husband started noticing the high number of parcels he had to pick up from the post office.
He didn't mind the cute winter boots I bought, or the presents I bought for all the grandparents online. He didn't even mind the pink flannel sheets with cartoon dogs I bought for our bed.
No. He drew the line at having to go pick up a dead mouse at the post office.
In my defense, it was a really epic dead mouse.
Super Mouse
Nixon would have approved.
Big thanks to Heather from Mortuary Report who is not only responsible for Super Mouse's awesomeness but for also making me smile with her general awesomeness.
Boo has threatened to confiscated my credit card and made me swear, upon penalty of divorce, that I will only use it for emergencies.
Apparently taxidermied awesomeness does not constitute an emergency either. He was very sure to clarify.
Drat.
I totally had my eye on Jackalope.
Anyways, thanks to everyone who emailed, messaged, texted and called to make sure I hadn't expired offline. Your concern means a lot, and I'm not just saying that because of my zombie induced delirium.
I'm back. I may be slightly contagious and talking to a dead stuffed mouse, but I'm totally back.
I should be good as long as there are no cars that need to be lifted off anyone anytime soon.