That's My Story and I'm Sticking To It!

Yesterday was a little more exciting than I hoped it would have been. We always pre-program the coffee pot to grind the beans and brew the coffee before we get up of a morning so we have a fresh pot waiting on us when we get out of bed. Very typical - I know. Anyway, yesterday morning there was hot coffee all over the counter when MW made it to the kitchen to get us a cup of Joe. We just figured that it had not flipped the bean holder part where the ground beans go. (Yes. That is a completely made up name for the bean thingy.) Not a big deal. So, we cleaned it up and went on with our merry day.

Well, after breakfast I decided to grind up the Serrano peppers that have been drying out since we plucked them from our garden last summer. Little did I know that the dust from those little flamers would get all up my nose and in my lungs. I had to end up wearing a bandanna over my nose and mouth just to get through it. Even with that perty blue bandanna on (I was a lovely sight - still in my bathrobe.) my nose was running and I was coughing so hard I thought I was going to throw up.

So, after I was done with those dried out little hotties I hit the shower. I fixed my hair. I went outside to sprinkle my newly ground powdered fire on my tulip and iris bulbs to keep the adorable neighborhood squirrels and rabbits from eating my precious glints of colored glory from being eaten. Then...the wind caught the pepper dust and blew it right up into my eye. Don't try that at home, by the way. Because it hurts. REALLY. REALLY. REALLY. badly. I ran to the sink with my arms flailing like a wild woman and began to rinse my swollen, blood red, burning eye with cold water. It didn't help. It hurt worse to open my eye. But I did - long enough to take my contact out. Yes, that was also my last pair of contacts. Then I rinsed it some more. NOT HELPING!

I decided to do the next reasonable thing. I called my husband at work. Like, really, any rational woman would realize that: A)He is AT WORK! What is he going to be able to do for me from 45 minutes away?, B)Did I REALLY think he would know what to do for Serrano pepper dust in the eyeball? and finally, C)For all of his thousands of wonderful qualities he truly is useless to me in these types of crises situations.

Shall I explain? Yes, thank you, I shall.

Example #1 - The Lowery Park Zoo, Tampa, FL
We took a family trip to the Lowery Park Zoo one time and was having a wonderful time. Me and MW, anyway. Little Britches was completely unimpressed even though this zoo was rated the #1 children's zoo in the nation. This was typical for my little homebody at the time. Sea World, Disney, blah, blah, blah - same story. He'd have just rather been at home. Anyway, we went into the aviary where you could interact with gajillions of beautiful, exotic birds (I made that really big number up. Perhaps you've heard of it?). They even had little cups of nectar that you could hold and some of the birds would come eat out of your hand. How cool! Unless you're me. Thousands upon thousands of people have come through that little piece of paradise with nothing but fabulous memories and pictures of docile little winged creatures sipping liquid love from their hands. I, on the other hand, try to block out that experience altogether. Except right now because I'm trying to make a point. A really lengthy point. But, it's my blog and I can ramble if I want to. Read the title of my blog, people! OK. Sorry, I just needed to get that out. Back to the bird place, thing. Well, Little Britches and MW each have their cups of nectar. They are giggling while watching sweet little birdies eat out of their hands. I want to have fun, too! I pick up a little cup and fill it with nectar. As I hold out my hand, I watch a bird approach and land on me. I must have been holding my hand wrong. Maybe I smelled funny. I don't know. Maybe the bird was hormonal. Maybe he was really Satan. That sucker started attacking me! Peck. Peck. Peck.... Have you ever been attacked by a bird? Well, I'm telling ya, it's NOT fun! I was screaming. It wouldn't get off of me. It just kept attacking me. This is where MW comes in. I started yelling for my beloved to rescue his bride. "Please...Help. Me!" "Heeeeelllllllppppp Meeeee!" But he couldn't 'cause he was too busy...laughing. I'm talking about the I can hardly breathe, I've fallen to my knees and am getting ready to wet myself kind of laughter. He never did make it to my side. I had to wait until that demonic little creature had gotten his fill of unleashing his hellish wrath on me. I was utterly traumatized. I promise that if my future ever holds another trip to the Lowery Park Zoo in Tampa, FL - I will NOT, I repeat, will NOT be venturing into the aviary. Nope. Not me.

Example #2 - My driveway in the Midwest Summertime
It was the middle of summer and very hot. Our little family decided that popsicles sounded really good. After all, who doesn't like a frozen treat on a hot summer day, right? So, the three of us open up our popsicles and when I went to lick mine...it stuck to my lips. Both of them. Have you ever seen "A Christmas Story"? Remember the scene where the kid sticks his tongue to the pole and gets stuck there? It happened in "Dumb and Dumber", too. That's the movie MW took me to on our first date. He finds great humor in these things. I provide plenty of enjoyment for him. Well, picture something similar to those movies except instead of winter, poles, and tongues - think summer, popsicle and lips. I kept trying to lick my lips to get them wet enough to release the popsicle, but that didn't work. So I tried to ask MW for help the best way I could. It was slightly difficult to speak properly seeing how my lips were glued to my popsicle and all. He couldn't help me, though. He was too busy. Laughing 'till he was bowed over holding his stomach. Little Britches went and got a cup of warm water for me. MW finally pulled himself together enough to pour warm water over my lips (still laughing). It took a while to free my lips. Most of the skin inside them decided to stay with the popsicle. I don't care much for popsicles anymore.

Now, back to my eye situation. First of all, MW didn't answer his phone. He always answers his phone. Remember, I'm not completely rational at this moment, because I bothered to call my hubby in the first place. Hmmmm...who should I call next? POISON CONTROL! Right answer. They knew exactly what to do. I must say I felt slightly stupid when Joanne, the nice lady from Poison Control who helped me, asked me how old I was. My reply? This time I was the one laughing. "Thirty-four. Old enough to not do this." She said I needed to go get into the shower, wash my hair to get any pepper residue out of it, and stand there with very warm water hitting my forehead. It would run down into my eyes and fix the problem. I had JUST gotten out of the shower. I was very clean yesterday. I said heck with fixing my hair a second time, though.

When MW got my message he called me and, once again, got a good laugh. He did tell me though that the reason that stuff is so funny to him is because when he (or most other people) get hurt it's usually because of something they've done - like the time he dropped a 400 pound board on his big toe. That was nasty. But when I get hurt it's like freak of nature things that only happen to me.

I never finished putting that pepper stuff on my tulips. I'm not even going to attempt it until my dear hubby brings me a respirator with eye guards. Something like that would only happen twice to me.

After that whole ordeal I was completely wiped out and needed a cup of java. I had forgotten about the incident that morning. Once the coffee started brewing I realized it wasn't a glitch with the machine that morning, though. Our $300.00 coffee maker had decided to try something new and start brewing coffee out it's back side. (We didn't pay $300.00 for the machine. No way. It actually didn't cost us anything. But...it's still a $300.00 coffee maker and there is no way we would go out and replace it.) It was a mess. I was sad. I reeeeeaaaaaly like that coffee maker.

But...the story ends well. My eye got better. I ruined my last pair of contacts. At least I'm not blind. I just need to make an appointment and go get some more vision enhancers. MW, while not being able to help me for laughing at my woes, DOES happen to be very handy. He fiddled with the coffee maker last night after work - got his tools out and everything. He got that bad daddy working! Yay!

I woke up to a nice steaming cup of coffee this morning. I knew it was coffee because I had my glasses on.

The end.
Pam