|It really is an awesome sweater. Ignore the face and the disaster. We're remodeling. It does strange things to a person.|
I'm not exactly saying I'm more partial to the sweater than, say, my children. Obviously if it came down to a choice between the sweater and Beanstalk I would choose Beanstalk... But that's a very academic decision right there. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind a chunk of my psyche is standing there in her red-bottomed Louboutin pumps screaming:
"THERE HAS TO BE A BETTER WAY!"
She's not my favorite member of my mental group conscience. In fact, the other eleven members frequently have to toss her out on her rear end for wreaking havoc at least once a month. So, when I drove the truck to the dump today wearing my favorite sweater and there wasn't an attendant there to help me and I found that the trash had been chewed into by an animal and there were maggots--well--she lost her mind. Maggots on the sweater, y'all. Maggots.
|Because this just wouldn't be my blog without something remotely gross and scientific.|
There are, in fact, members of the mental group conscience capable of handling maggots, rain water, and holes in trash bags. I used to determine time of death for roadkill using maggots in college (it was a post doc study for a prof. Ick, emkay? Just ick). However, I think they're the ones who dislike anything that occurs before noon. Imelda (that's her name) tapped into some sort of override and there was some screaming and yelling and flapping of arms and legs and shuddering.
|It was horrid, I tell you. HORRID! (How those Chinese folk got in there I do not know).|
I came home and straightaway got in the shower to clean up. I tossed the favorite sweater in the wash as advised from the eleven other conscience members who had been rocketed out of bed by all the screaming. They advised I take Imelda to a closet to make her feel more at home, but that didn't work so I got on Pinterest for a while. She likes that and is mostly in charge of my Pinterest boards. I got sidetracked looking at Tumbleweed Tiny House Company so she wrote me this Haiku:
No no no no no
No no no no no no no
No no no no no
It could be a very long day.