Captain Crankypants

As the title suggests, I’m really in a rare mood today. Today began as no Monday should, with Bruno standing by my bedside barking for his breakfast at the crack of dawn. I fired off a warning shot with my spray bottle of water, prompting him to circle the bed and bark at Garrett. Another squirt, more barking. Squirt, woof, squirt, woof, squirt, SQUIRT, SQUIRT. He finally got the picture and flopped down on his bed with a grunt. Hoover, who had been pacing silently in the hope that Bruno’s performance would result in breakfast, also threw himself back in his bed with a heavy sigh. For the record, the only way to get a warm reception while waking me up is to approach with a cup of coffee, a plate of eggs benedict, and a few kind words about how beautiful I look without makeup.

Later on, after making my own coffee and breakfast, stumbling into the bathroom and realizing that actually I look a hot mess without my makeup, it came to my attention that either one of my kids’ rooms could be used as a backdrop for one of those “sponsor a child” commercials. That this sort of squalor can exist in middle-class suburban America is appalling enough; that they live this way voluntarily really blows my mind. It's a matter of time before one of them catches a disease from the condition of his room (which would actually be a pretty good plot for an episode of House, now that I think of it). And no, I'm not going to clean it myself; I believe 16 & 17 year-olds should be able to keep one room of the house clean.

As if that weren't enough, I’ve also noticed today that my dogs seem to be ignoring me after this morning’s aquatic machinations. I work from home, and normally they spend the day lounging on the guest bed in my office. Today neither one of them is giving me the time of day. In fact, they are not only avoiding the ROOM that I’m in, they’re not even on the same FLOOR of the house. Ingrates!

To complete my joy, I have to work in the yard tonight to spread some mulch before the thunderstorms that are forecast for Wednesday. Since my chest and neck are covered in tiny blisters from Saturday’s sunburn, I’ll be hoisting the pitchfork dressed in some sort of improvised burqa, which I’ll wear together with the crankiest of crankypants.

2 comments:

bosslady said...

Aw! Who loves ya baby?! I too am having one of those weeks. Maybe the tide will change once I stop bleeding like I've been shot :(

Addie said...

Poor chicklet! You know what Dr. Tyler would prescribe: take a cool bubble bath and listen to some Hootie! Hang in there, sassy britches. :-)