On Soilage and the Defilement of the Throne
Dear OR,
Much to my disgust I recently discovered that The Beast, the name I constantly find myself referring to this little creature as, has a need to expel waste the same as we do. What is so bad about that you say? Unlike any civilized individual who would use the bathroom it simply sits where ever it may be and does its business. Imagine how appalled I was the other day to find it rolling around in the mess it had just made. And to make matters worse my wife turned to me and made it very clear that she wanted me to clean it up. Clean it up?! What a ludicrous idea. Perhaps if I leave it uncomfortable it will pack up its bags and head back to where it came from.
I am sorry to report; however, that that was not the result. Instead, The Beast exercised some form of mind control and took over my wife. I know it was The Beast because my wife has never acted so irrationally before. In one quick movement she hoisted this devious creature over my favorite chair and threatened to smear the toxic side across the fabric. I could barely believe what I was seeing. And now she insists that I spend money to encase its bottom in plastic. It would seam that this is the only way to keep my chair safe as my wife insists that she is incapable of teaching this monster how to be civilized.
I must say that I did appreciate your suggestion of how to avoid The Beast. Indeed the Bathroom would be a formidable challenge for such a small creature. It cannot reach the doorknob yet and the walls a fairly well insulated so that noise doesn't enter easily. With this in mind I gathered some of my favorite reading materials and headed off for what I had hoped would be a delightful afternoon. Unfortunately it was not to be so.
You see, I had not planned on my wife becoming involved in this scenario. About the third hour she came knocking at the door demanding entrance. Well there was no way I was going to allow that to happen as wherever she goes The Beast is always right behind. So I sent her away. A little space later she was back again pounding on the door. She must have asked The Beast to try its mind control tricks on me but as of yet I'm still able to resist its cunning devices so I sent her away again. We went on like this for some time until my wife went around the house to the window on the other side of the bathroom which I had opened in order to let in a cool refreshing breeze and glared in at me lying in the tub reading. From that moment on my quite repose was any thing but quite and I eventually had to let her into the bathroom and seek a more quiet environment. Since then if I am in the bathroom for more than 15 minutes my wife bangs on the door until I finally break down and allow her entrance.
But despite all these things have no fear. I am so far unscathed and still in my right mind. I remain always:
Respectfully Yours,
The Lumpy
Much to my disgust I recently discovered that The Beast, the name I constantly find myself referring to this little creature as, has a need to expel waste the same as we do. What is so bad about that you say? Unlike any civilized individual who would use the bathroom it simply sits where ever it may be and does its business. Imagine how appalled I was the other day to find it rolling around in the mess it had just made. And to make matters worse my wife turned to me and made it very clear that she wanted me to clean it up. Clean it up?! What a ludicrous idea. Perhaps if I leave it uncomfortable it will pack up its bags and head back to where it came from.
I am sorry to report; however, that that was not the result. Instead, The Beast exercised some form of mind control and took over my wife. I know it was The Beast because my wife has never acted so irrationally before. In one quick movement she hoisted this devious creature over my favorite chair and threatened to smear the toxic side across the fabric. I could barely believe what I was seeing. And now she insists that I spend money to encase its bottom in plastic. It would seam that this is the only way to keep my chair safe as my wife insists that she is incapable of teaching this monster how to be civilized.
I must say that I did appreciate your suggestion of how to avoid The Beast. Indeed the Bathroom would be a formidable challenge for such a small creature. It cannot reach the doorknob yet and the walls a fairly well insulated so that noise doesn't enter easily. With this in mind I gathered some of my favorite reading materials and headed off for what I had hoped would be a delightful afternoon. Unfortunately it was not to be so.
You see, I had not planned on my wife becoming involved in this scenario. About the third hour she came knocking at the door demanding entrance. Well there was no way I was going to allow that to happen as wherever she goes The Beast is always right behind. So I sent her away. A little space later she was back again pounding on the door. She must have asked The Beast to try its mind control tricks on me but as of yet I'm still able to resist its cunning devices so I sent her away again. We went on like this for some time until my wife went around the house to the window on the other side of the bathroom which I had opened in order to let in a cool refreshing breeze and glared in at me lying in the tub reading. From that moment on my quite repose was any thing but quite and I eventually had to let her into the bathroom and seek a more quiet environment. Since then if I am in the bathroom for more than 15 minutes my wife bangs on the door until I finally break down and allow her entrance.
But despite all these things have no fear. I am so far unscathed and still in my right mind. I remain always:
Respectfully Yours,
The Lumpy
posted by Julia Reffner | Monday, July 25, 2005
1 Comments:
If I were your wife I wouldn't be opening up that door...
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