Pet Cobra

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Wednesday, February 23, 2005

It's The End of The World As We Know It, and I Feel Like Ass

A recap of last night:

5:00. Arrive home after drive in the pouring rain. Lucas now has an Effective Walking Range of about 15 feet, roughly the length of our hallway. He is roaming around the house on two feet, pausing occasionally to fall on his ass, which doesn't phase him in the slightest. The Walkin' Dude.

5:30. The weather guy tells us that San Diego is under a Tornado Watch. WTF? Were we suddenly teleported to Trailer Town, Oklahoma? (Note: I can make Oklahoma jokes. I have that right. I lived there for three years.) The idea of tornados in San Diego is laughable. And yet...I crack open a couple of windows. When I lived in the Midwest we were told to do this during Tornado Watches. Something about equalizing the inside and outside air pressure. Prevents your house from exploding.

6:00. I AM BREAKING OUT IN HIVES. They are on my hips and thighs. This also happened the previous evening. I pop a couple of Benadryls. Hives? Are you kidding me?

8:00. I'm asleep on the couch. Ah, Benadryl.

8:30. Beth tells me to go to bed. I mumble something and obey.

12:00 a.m. Lucas is crying. One or both of us gets up and gives him a pacifier. He goes back to sleep.

1:30 a.m. BOOOOOOOOOM! Thunder. Lightning crashes. A new mother cries. Mick leaps on to the bed, scared shitless. Dog + storm = nervous wreck. He does this routine for about an hour: hops up onto bed (Thud. 55 pounds of dog.), breathes in our faces, hops down, paces around the room panting, repeat.

Let's see - did I forget anything. Oh! Wait! Right as we were sitting down to dinner we found a bunch of little winged bugs that we think are termites crawling out from under the fridge and roaming around the kitchen floor.

So, to recap: pestilence, floods, hives. Hmmm. Better mark the door with sheep's blood tonight. And I'm inviting Charleton Heston over for dinner, just to cover all the bases.



3 Comments:

At 10:19 AM, Blogger Mr. Hibbity Gibbity said...

And see, this is why I got the hell outta California when I could.

Fun place to visit . . . but . . . sheesh.

 
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