Homicidal Water Bottles

They're after me.

Attacking from all corners of my vehicle.

And I don't even really drink water from bottles, so I'm not sure how they got there.

I started this morning when I rocketed out of bed at 6 am. YES. 6 A.M. to go get Squib and hang out for a bit before registering him for school. Wheeeeeeere do you hang out from 6 to 8 a.m. on a Thursday morning? I'll tell you. NOWHERE. One (water bottle, that is) rolled out from under my seat and lodged itself under my brake pedal. Yes, under. Freakish! I reached down (with good aim, for once) and yanked it out and hurled it into the back--the back back. You know, the back behind the back seat. I briefly wondered how it got there, but chalked it up to a random driver using my car on the weekend while I was at Green Acres. Random, you know.

Moving on.

At the elementary school, I discovered that after six months of phone calls and testing, they still had no clue who my son was. He wasn't even "that kid we tested in July." Or even "the one with neurofibromatosis." Or any other label. So...I spoke to the diagnostician. She assured me we would schedule an ARD soon. Probably tomorrow.

Got in the truck after giving Squib the "we don't holler like monkeys in the African jungles while mom is trying to speak to your future teachers" speech. Son.

Water bottle number two rolled out the door and landed on my foot before I could even get in. I should have recognized the metaphor at this point but I did not. I mused on it for a split second before chucking bottle number two in the back with the other.

Arrived at Green Acres just as Buddy was summoning the biggest rain storm of all time by cleaning the entire length of the driveway with the water hose. This is a surefire technique. Better than a naked rain dance. One hour later, after I realized my phone was getting no service, I was driving into the grocery store parking lot to boost some wifi off The Hop (local free-wifi burger joint) and do my work while hoping to hear from the school. Water bottle number three rolls out from under my seat as I slide into the parking lot.

I'm sure you're asking two questions right now. First, why am I sliding? I'll tell you. Two words: tar and gravel. It's our county's road repair policy. It gets hot and therefore slick. Add water and it's like an ice skating rink for cars. Add a free-floating water bottle about your feet and it gets...funner. Second, why the heck have I not checked under my seat for water bottles??!? I have. They are either materializing there as needed or by some act of procreation. Both would be a sight to behold.

That's all I have to say about that.

I chuck the next half liter into the back with the first liter and proceed to camp out in the parking lot...

...where the diagnostician inflames me to the point of distraction and near tears. This makes me angry. This is also a gross understatement. I am giving her a wee bit of credit because I could have children her age (maybe) and because I think she may have me confused with someone else (sorta) who has a completely different kid (possibly). And now I have to go back there (hour-and-a-half drive) tomorrow to avenge my younger son's education (arrrrrrrrggggg).

And then, in the course of doing my normal daily investigation of "stuff," I discover that a company we are thinking of doing business with is involved as a defendant in a RICO case. That's the Racketeering Act (racketeering influenced corrupt organizations), people. REALLY? Yes, really. And I have to take that news home with me.

Then the door started leaking. Yay.

More water.

This is a scene right out of my very own Scat and the No Good, Horrible, Very Bad Day. And on top of it, somewhere in there, I went to the gym and got waylaid before I ever got to the shower...so I STINK!

Maybe the water is a hint. I don't know.

The truck has now been thoroughly checked for any rolling, liquid-loaded objects. They have all been exterminated. I have had a few moments...maybe even an hour to check my sanity and speak to other adults who have their heads screwed on mostly straight, so I think I shall survive the day.

But, fair warning! I am fully armed with three lethal half-liter bottles of water!!

And I'm no longer afraid to use them. :)
Scat.