This morning I was washing dishes in one of Brian's tee-shirts and my underpants, and as I set a wet frying pan on the stove (turned to HIGH heat) to force it to dry quickly, I looked out the window and realized our neighbor was at the door, waving at me.
"Brian! Someone's at the door!" I shrieked, and I ran over to the corner of the dining room to hide my nearly-nekkid buttocks. I had a bag of too-small maternity clothes packed up for my sister, and I hastily grabbed a pair of pants from the top of the bag, threw one leg in, then the other, yanked them up to my
So I ran back to the door, yanking Brian's too-small tee-shirt down over the great gaping hole in my pants, (which runs from almost to my waist, the the back of my butt) and wave hello to our neighbor, who has come to pick up recyclable bottles. (His kids collect them for Boy Scouts).
The *bleeping* dog is jumping all over him, and I'm screaming at the Skyemonster, trying to keep my undies from showing through the enormous pants-hole, and Brian is scrambling to grab all the bottles and cans to keep me from doing it.
Finally I get the stupid dog's attention as I scream "TREAT! TREAT" and I grab the nearest package of treats I can find, which were actually cat treats, but anyone who eats lemon rinds, potato peels and his own feces isn't gonna notice the difference between cat and dog treats. I lure Skye into the living room and up the stairs in search of a less-obscene pair of pants.
Skye runs through the upstairs, greedily devouring the entire bag of cat food, freaking out from the "junk food" rush, and starts maniacally
attacking his butt. He's ripping fur out in big clumps. I'm trying to get him to stop, while trying to juggle my thirty-pound belly out of my own way, hopping on one leg in a terribly unattractive maternity dance of grace, struggling to put on a new, unripped pair of pants.
Skye hears Brian downstairs laughing, and remembers that he is missing out on prime neighbor attention, and tumbles back down the stairs, with me in tow. We both make it to the kitchen at the same time, and I notice Brian has forgotten a box of bottles - which I grab quickly, and slam the door before Skye can escape. I made it outside just in time. Brian and our neighbor loaded everything up and we all chatted for a few minutes.
Neighbor leaves, and Brian and I laugh about the whole chaotic mess, arm and arm as we head back in the house - only to find the entire room filled with thick smoke. I had totally forgotten about the frying pan on HIGH heat on the stove. - which was now a melted mess of teflon.
Never a dull moment around here. My sister is going to love her new air-conditioned pants. Too bad I don't know any seamstresses . . . .
Peace, 'til next