Friday, August 18, 2006
A blog in my throat
Oops! I can't believe I forgot to blog yesterday! That is certainly not like me. In my defense, I have been trapped in the throes if a marathon game of Chuzzle Deluxe, and only managed to escape it's grasp last night at 2AM (this morning?). My right hand feels like it has been through the wringer from the clicking and dragging. I had to brush my teeth with my left hand LOL. Some people call it an addiction, I call it dedication. Okay. Diabolical addiction. Almost worse than knitting, but if knitting hurts my hands it hurts both, and only when I use cotton. But those chuzzles are just too cute, I just have to....make them explode. Bwa-ha-ha-haa! Yes, ladies and gentlemen. My house is a mess, we have no clean dishes, there is a mountain of laundry (one more day and we all have to wear bathing suits instead of underwear), we are out of most grocery items, there are three knitting projects on the needles, and I have several deadlines to be completed by midnight. AND I SPENT HOURS PLAYING CHUZZLE. Not even sure if I stopped to pee. I don't remember dinner nor putting DD to bed - but seeing as that is where she was when I got her up I assume I did. And I assume that because she was wearing a nightgown and not a princess dress, in case you were wondering. I am like a CSI, so good at looking for the signs and knowing what is going on. For example. I can tell what DH had for lunch my simply glancing into the kitchen. Bag of tortillas drying out on the counter, can of sauce tipped onto the formica (that will leave a stain), shredded cheese scattered six ways from sunday, microwave door left ajar, dog with garlic breath from scavenged pepperoni droppings. Yep, those are the signs of tortilla pizzas, and I didn't even have to check his chair for saucey cheese globs. I can also tell what he is bringing for dinner, since amid the other mess is an empty black tray and a cardboard box that says "seafood lasagne". If I look closer, I might find the piece of plastic that used to be across that tray, but knowing that it will be stuck to something icky side down I am not looking closely thank you. Let it be a surprise for me later, I guess. Ew! My ability to figure out what is going on like this absolutely astonishes DD. I walk by the bathroom and remark "I see your Polly Pockets have been swimming again". She looks at me in awe - "How did you KNOW that?". I tell her mothers are magic and have special powers of deduction. I am not ready to tell her that I am a mere mortal, and the wet dolls all over the counter - not to mention the bowl of water with a barbie slide attached to the side - were pretty much a dead giveaway. This is the same child that can stand there with hooker-red lips and be startled when she gets in trouble for getting into my make-up. None of your business WHY I have hooker red lipstick, smarty pants. A few times we have come home to a mess, and I said "Oh, the cats got into the garbage!". Dh usually follows up with 'How can you tell?'. Well, the fact that there is garbage strewn about is a pretty good sign. And if the hole in the bag is the size of a dime and the lone chicken bone has been dragged out, it is the cats. If the hole is the size of a bowling ball, and food has been LICKED into the couch and carpet, well, that is Ruby signs. He can walk in, walk back and forth and not see (nor smell) the mess and I see it the moment I come in. Of course, I have come to suspect that he believes the "whoever sees it first cleans it" rule so is pretending not to notice - and thus not having to clean the mess. Sigh. I would play chuzzle to feel better, but I think my right hand just fell off. I'll leave it there and see if DH picks it up when he comes home ;).