Tuesday, January 11, 2011

I'll Respond in Cases of Death, Dismemberment and Cat Grooming.

I don't text during the day, not really.  I also don't answer my phone or leave for lunch.  Those that are close to me know this and have learned to accept it.  Meh, for the most part.

I don't know why I can't.  I guess you could say I have a one track mind.  It's like, once I start a task, I just can't stop!  There's some kinda weird pull that prevents me from walking away. 

There are however, a few things can bring me out of the 'zone'.  The school calling about an almost fatal injury ( that my child has so cleverly convinced them of no doubt), the building on fire, the dogs getting loose...again,  my husband broken down on the side of the road....You know, things like that.  Those are prime examples of ways to get me to wake me from my work induced trance and return a text..  ***I also respond in cases of death or dismemberment.

And then there are the rare instances where I'll get a text and I just can't HELP it.  I have to respond.  Like the one I got today.....

3:27pm my phone buzzes....I ignore.....three minutes later, the reminder buzz goes off.

An aggravated groan escapes my lips as I reach for my phone.  It's from hubs.  I hesitate....Then the serious battle begins to wage within... 

Do I look?  No, don't look.  But what if it's important?  He'll text me back.  Or call.  Yes!  If it was a real emergency, he'd call.  If I look, I'll feel obligated to respond.  If I respond, he'll more than likely respond back.  Then I'll have to respond back to him.  And I KNOW he'll respond back again....Then I'll have lost a solid six minutes of time....I can get a lot done in six minutes.  I'll lose my train of thought if I look...That's it I'm not looking.  I'm not....BUT....

As my inner monologue begins to fade, the familiar chanting begins to take it's place...

'Don't look, don't look, don't look, don't look'.  FINE! I'm not looking! 

I slowly reach back to place my phone in it's former resting place when I hear a swift knock at the door.


My associate is standing there, asking me a random series of questions in rapid succession.  I blink. 

What did she just ask me?  Ugh! Now I've lost 4 minutes.

My associate walks away and I huff once again.  My train of thought has been thoroughly derailed. 


With no excuse to fall back on, I reach for my phone once again.  I have no choice.  I punch in my pass code and stare down at my screen.

THIS is the image that greets me....

I squint my eyes and focus on the tiny picture in front of me...What tha'?  *BUZZ*  Ah HA! The explanation has arrived:

Hubs: "Not entirely sure what she's doing to the cat, but it doesn't seem to mind."


Me: "Ehhhhh, is the cat in a pizza box?"
Hubs: "Mmmmmhmmmm, Not sure of the purpose though.  However, it appears to be a bridge over the sink"
Me: "........................"
Hubs: "After further investigation, It seems to have been very odd grooming session consisting in fact, of a pizza box and a toothbrush."
Me: "...................Ah, well, that makes sense then.""
Hubs: "Don't forget the paper towels and dog food."
Me: "..............................."

I set my phone down and pinch the bridge of my nose. I have no response to this.  I have no response to this and I feel no need rationalize the fact that there was a pizza box, in my bathroom sink, holding up a cat, while it's getting groomed by a toothbrush wielding eleven year old.

I, I have no idea.  None.  I just know, that if she used my toothbrush to groom the cat, she is dead meat.


Katie Aitken said...

You must fill us in on the ending! You are a great writer, Krista Rita!

Mrs. Shy said...

Awe! Thanks Katie! Yes, we found out the next morning that is was her own toothbrush. She was pretty bent outta shape when she realized we were out of extras and she'd have to use her finger. AHAHA!