Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Iced in and going crazy...

Ok, "iced in" might be a bit of an exaggeration. The roads are fine and I could leave anytime I wanted to, if there were anyplace to go! Our house seems to be located right in the middle of a tiny oasis of uninterrupted electrical circuits, so we're warm and dry. Technically, I shouldn't be complaining. But the fact of the matter is, I'm stuck inside a house with two small boys, one big one, six spoiled cats, and a dog with a sense of humor. That's not a misplaced modifier. The dog is the one with the sense of humor, not me. I lost mine at about noon today when I realized the dog had one. Maybe he has MINE!

I'm starting to smell odd odors. Let me also admit that I'm the only one who can smell them. Conversations tend toward the following:

Me: "Do you smell that?"
Chris: "Smell what?"
Me: "That horrible smell."
Chris: "No, what does it smell like?"
Me: "Sort of like a combination of feet and moldy potatoes."
Chris: "Been walking over any moldy potatoes lately?"
Me (pacing around and sniffing): "Not funny. It's not my feet, it's right here. Come smell it."
Chris: "Now why would I want to get up and come over there to smell something bad when I'm perfectly happy sitting right here and smelling nothing?"

At this point I may or may not have burst into tears and stated that men never understand anything. You never know what I might do when I've spent too much quality time with my sons, who haven't been allowed to run off any energy in days.

On the bright side of things, after having spent my entire summer lamenting the annoyance of a crew of tree trimmers, who camped out in my yard every single day and appeared to do nothing, I have working electricity when nobody else does because they did a fantastic job of clearing away all offending trees from the power lines. This should teach me a lesson about giving thanks for everything, but it apparently hasn't, since I'm already on to complaining about the ice storm. Ok, ok, I'll be thankful for the ice storm, too. But I'm only slightly thankful. How's that?

I would put up pictures of what everything looks like under a blanket of ice, but my camera was misplaced in a moment of mad cleaning earlier today. I remember setting it down somewhere...but I'm not sure where. Perhaps the dog has it. It would be his idea of a practical joke. That and sneaking up behind unsuspecting cats and woofing loudly. His practical jokes are beginning to wear on my nerves. Pray for my sanity, and the sanity of all other moms trapped inside with energetic children!


Christina said...

I think I smell it too. Perhaps the craziness is spilling over. That's it! Does crazy have a smell? Maybe you're smelling craziness.

Lista said...

AHA! Mystery solved! It's the smell of crazy. So now we all know that crazy smells like feet and rotten potatoes. Unfortunately, so does milk that someone spilled on my couch and forgot to tell me about!