Waaah, waaah, I'm all alone with the spawn and I'm tired and crabby. Motherfucker shit-ass-cockdick-chunting-turdballs. Oh, life's so hard -- boo-hoo. Why me... why me?!
Something like that. Actually, it hasn't been that bad. The spawnage have been quite not-pains-in-the-asses, for some odd reason, and we've been able to squeeze something akin to "fun" in between my mad cleaning dashes around the house like a dick with its head cut off. Frankly, I think some inadvertant (and some 'advertant') huffing of cleaning fluids has really taken the edge off my tenure as a temporary single-parent. While inhaling Comet dust puts a little pep in my step, I'm kind of partial to the surprising brown study brought on by a few deep whiffs of Tilex. Really goes to town on that stubborn 'brain mildew.'
The thing that really sucks when the Old Lady is away is the whole sleeping thing. A) well... it's lonely. Two, it's creepy. And you know who makes it even creepier? Mr. Z. Last night at about 1:30, the SECOND I fell asleep, I heard Mr. Z yelling something in his room. I ran in there and he was sitting up, pointing at his wall, yelling, "HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY!" At first I thought he was doing the world's worst Fat Albert impression ever, but then I realized that he was indeed asleep and most likely having a nightmare... involving either Fat Albert or Dwayne from "What's Happening!!"
I managed to calm him down and get him back to sleep, but I was up for another hour, just kind of rattled. Then tonight, about 10 minutes ago, I heard some talking coming out of his room -- very matter of fact kind of talking. I went up to his door to listen and he was talking all right, but in some bizarre cross between Ubbi-Dubbi and some Bantu click language. Once again... creeeepy. I'm convinced that the next time I go in there, I'll find this:
Why the shit did I just search for that picture? Well, it's official -- no sleep for crabbydad tonight.
Where's that Tilex?
No comments:
Post a Comment