When my son woke me up at 4AM I said :
"Good Lord Son,,, it's 4 O'clock in the morning! Go back to bed!!"
....and "miraculously" he did, but he dropped a metal car on the way out. My next trip to the restroom in the dark at 5 AM was on a path directly OVER the metal car that was dropped at 4 AM and sounded like this:
"HOLY HELL,,, THAT HURT!!!"
....and then I realized I was still in pain so I uttered a defeated:
I managed to get back to sleep until Traxx woke me up AGAIN by professing, in an ear-piercingly loud fashion, a stage of hunger I can only assume is the stage directly before death.
I got up to make him toast. I don't have a toaster because the stars have not aligned accurately enough for me to have the privilege of setting one on my counter and smiling at my good fortune (I think my ex took the toaster and my George Foreman because he wanted me to die, I alerted the authorities, but they said it was insufficient grounds for attempted murder,, had he taken the microwave, then maybe I would have had a case,,, whatever).
I will await until the alignment of the stars does in fact happen to get a toaster because,,, that's how I roll,,,, unless of course someone just says "Hey, here's a toaster!!" and then,,,, THAT will be how I roll.
My oven can only be described as worse than an "Easy Bake" oven on crack. Some days I heart its little imperfections, like not heating up, even though it has been on preheat for an hour!! Or going from 150 to 501 degrees, like a Lambo on the Autobahn roadway, even though the knob clearly states 275 is the temperature I desire.
I expect this trouble each time,, but for cripes sakes,, my son wanted peanut butter toast and I felt I had suffered enough with the 5 O'clock foot mauling, that maybe,,, fate was on my side now. I place 4 pieces of bread on the tinfoil whilst speaking the following prayer:
Dear Lord, please allow me to have two pieces of toast NOT burnt past the "scrape the black crap off with a butter knife" stage..... Amen
See, it IS turning out to be a religious day!!
I let the puppy out quickly, trusting the toast's safety to the power of my nose and the Lord. I ran to the restroom to brush hair and teeth. I saw a gray hair popping out like an over zealous turkey thermometer on Thanksgiving day. I say:
"Good Lord,, where did that come from?"
The Lord does not answer me, possibly because he does not have time, the toast is now in jeopardy of...err,,, burning... uh,,,,, being on fire... I scream:
"OH MY GOD!!!"
...a few seconds later I remember my prayer that was lifted into heaven with a ray of sunshine and say:
"Really? I thought we talked about this God, I am confused."
......as I extinguish a small flame and remove the charred remains of my son's peanut buttery happiness. I tell a crying Traxx:
"Traxx, you really need "this banana" (holding banana lovingly as a display) for breakfast because looking into your eyes I can see that you need potassium and if you do not have enough potassium you will not have the strength to eat the Oreo Sunday I had planned to surprise you with for dessert tonight and that would just be sad".
Holy Banana of Peace ManHe agrees that this is a good safety measure and eats my "Holy Banana of Peace".
Later,, I decide to curl my hair. As I am dancing with the curling iron to my own version of "She's a Man-eater", I drop said heated hair implement of death (because it does not say specifically on the curling iron warning tag : "do not dance while operating curling iron", had it warned me, I still would have danced, but maybe to a slower song like "Feelings").
I catch the iron with my forehead. I hear a sizzle. This sizzle reminds me of a miniature piece of bacon frying in a tiny frying pan. I continue to drop the curling iron until I once again catch it, this time by the barrel and with my hand, there is a repeat sizzling. I realize, some where in my home there is a hungry little "bacon fairy" who is very pissed at hearing 2 mini pieces of bacon frying in a mini frying pan and finding no bacon to consume!
A Bacon Sun's Warm EmbraceI decide that I will not sue the curling iron company because I suppose I should have known the curling iron would be hot and I ALREADY have plotted a case against McDonald's because THEIR coffee is always so Effn hot,, dammit.
I look in the mirror to scope out my freshly branded forehead, and say:
"Joseph, Mary and Jerusalem,,,, WHY ME?"
........again there is no answer....I can only assume that they are really backlogged today with problems and trust that I will be OK.
I then had to go to the store. It was Dollar General. I chose a bad cart. But the cart was not the issue. The issue was the unintentionally bad mini-me pushing the cart. Somehow in her Justin Bebopping head, she failed to notice that I had stopped at the dog bones,, even though I had just said:
"HEY!!!! We need dog bones and there they are!" in my jovial mommy tone.
The shotty Dollar General cart humped my leg like a bull dog on Viagra. This left me in agony,,, hanging on the tree-shaped air freshener rack,,,, in the Dollar General "miscellaneous household items" aisle,,, where I let out a pitiful:
"Oh my GOD that Freaking hurt!!!!!!.."
(and a parentally muffled "kids are present": shit..shit..shit..)
So you see... It WAS a religious day!
At the end of this religious day, I laid down to talk to God one final time.
All I got was a busy signal...
.....and try again...
Now at this point, I can only assume that I had called him so many times during the day,,, he was under the impression that this was a prank call and was refusing to answer.
But that's just an assumption.....
Please enjoy this picture of Squeezable Bacon: