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September 19, 2006
Things I Shouldn't Tell Anyone, Especially the Whole Internet
I think there's a body buried in my backyard.
One night last week, B. had a terrible time getting the Idiot Dogs into the house before bed. Seems they had found a hambone in the neighbor's yard. How do we know this? Because they kept slapping their thighs in an upward brushing motion and then beating on their chests. Oh, and because B. had to wrestle a slobbery hambone from Chloe's saggy maw once he got them in the house.
Today, in an attempt to beat my current illness to death with fresh air and sunshine, Clara Jane and I ventured into the backyard with the dogs. While she removed 2/3 of the sand from her sandbox and I read my book, the dogs frantically dug at the base of our peach tree. Before long, all three of them (the neighbor's dog is always in our yard, because I don't have nearly enough things to piss me off) had their own bones, which they took to their seperate corners to gnaw.
Now, I didn't get a good look at the bones, mostly because 1) I didn't feel like getting out of my chair, 2) I was engrossed in my book, and 3) I didn't want to deal with the emotional fallout if I discovered one of them gnawing on a human skull. I could barely handle it last June when I had to dispose of a maggoty dead bird in my yard. All I know is, there's a copious amount of bonage in my backyard, and not the good kind of bonage that might cause my neighbors to call the cops for simple public indecency charges. I'm talking about the kind of bonage that could lead the neighbors to call the cops on much more complex why-are-their-bones-in-your-yard charges.
They're not ours. I swear. Talk to the previous owners. They were creepy.
Believe it or not, the possible graveyard in my backyard isn't the thing I shouldn't be advertising on the internet. No, what I shouldn't tell you about is far more personal. And horrible. And you probably won't want to be my friend or finish your lunch after you read it.
You've been warned.
As I mentioned, I'm a tad under the weather. It's nothing serious, just one of those irritating bugs that strikes when the weather changes. I'm snuffly, a bit lethargic, and most of my internal system are just ever-so-slightly off-kilter. I'm functioning, just a bit more slowly and crankily than usual.
Clara Jane and I have barely left the house since last Thursday, save for the little outing on Saturday to see the hot air balloons and grab dinner. We're going a little stir-crazy, but most of the places we go to are populated with kids and I don't want to share my germs with them. And I don't feel like chasing someone's toddler ass around the park. So, out of desperation, Clara Jane and I went out to the boneyard to play this morning.
We stayed out for about half an hour, and all was well. Well, as well as things can be in close proximity to three dogs excavating mortal remains and feasting on them. But fine nonetheless. Towards the end of the playtime, I realized that the coffee and shredded wheat I'd consumed for breakfast weren't getting along with the bug that's invaded my system. I needed to get inside, and I needed to get inside pronto. No easy task with slightly compromised health, while carrying a 34-pound kid who doesn't want to go inside up a full flight of stairs with two dogs in a bone-eating frenzy at my feet. But we made it.
Not quite soon enough. I could have used three, maybe four extra nanoseconds.
I can't believe I'm going to tell you this. I'm mortified. Truly. But my mortification is a small price to pay if it gives you sickos a chuckle.
No, I did not soil myself. I was very nearly at my targeted location when things started happening. You know how, when someone says "Ready. Aim. Fire," there's usually a slight pause between the words "aim" and "fire"? Well, that pause was gone, and the world is a terrifying, uncivilized place without that pause.
But all was well! I made it in time! My dignity is saved! Humiliation, begone! I'm sure you'll pay me a visit soon enough, but not today, Sucka!
I finished taking care of business, did some inspecting to make sure that I did, indeed, have impeccable aim. All seemed well, so I proceeded as normal.
What's that in the trashcan?
Oh dear lord.
No.
Clara Jane, please tell me you had a dirty diaper and opted to empty it into the bathroom trashcan, right next to the toilet. Please?
The bad news: my aim isn't as impeccable as I first thought. I had, indeed, missed the toilet.
The good news: my aim is far more impeccable than I first thought because goddamn, I hit the trash can without even trying!
I totally understand if you want to break up with me right now. If I were friends with me, I'd be ending it right this minute. Just be gentle when you break it to me. Remember, I'm currently physically ill and couldn't help myself. Thank you.
Figures. Clara Jane's almost out of diapers, and I'm about ready to start wearing them.
Posted by Robin at September 19, 2006 02:31 PM
Comments
I don't even know what to say!
Been there, done that, if it makes you feel better. And,I hope it does.
What a way to mislead though. I was getting excited about dead bones, and was about to tell you about the time I saw a man dump a body into a dumpster, but you took everything...somewhere else. Cheers!
Posted by: brenda at September 19, 2006 03:41 PM
Well, I'm naturally impressed. Your aim is almost as good as your bathtub-shitting child's. Actually, it's probably better, considering I'm sure the wastebasket is not the same size as your tub!
Posted by: Wendy at September 19, 2006 03:41 PM
I'm going to start calling you Annie Oakley! She could shoot behind her and hit a target as well!
Posted by: Dixie at September 19, 2006 04:20 PM
oh my, don't even feel bad. I DID shit my pants last week and I wasn't drunk or sick. I guess once I hit 30 everything started going down hill. I thought it was going to be just a little sqweaker...I was wrong. It was poop...and a lot of it. Thank god I was at home. I'm 30....and I shit my pants.
Posted by: Annie at September 19, 2006 04:20 PM
Wow. I'm all riled up with suspicion about the baby kidnapping case (intruder, my ass!) and then you tease me with bodies in the yard?
Matt vomited apropos of nothing Sunday night. Maybe it's in the air.
Posted by: allison at September 19, 2006 04:25 PM
This does not bother me, as we all know how urgent nature can be.
One time, Denine told me that she peed in the corner of her living room. For real. She also peed in a corner at a bar once. This I could never understand. Yes, she's a weirdo, but still, that's fucked up.
Posted by: Exena at September 19, 2006 05:14 PM
I'm not sure what this says about me, but I'm impressed that you hit the trashcan without even trying.
Posted by: Rachel at September 19, 2006 05:19 PM
I am too -- I think I would have missed both the trashcan and the pot, thus causing humiliation galore.
I'm still interested in the bones -- what kind of bones were they?
Posted by: Katya at September 19, 2006 05:40 PM
First, you crack me up.
Second, there used to be a little brick walkway to nowhere in our backyard. Dr Pig commenced to digging it up and discovered two layers of brick. And then a large piece of partially rotted plywood. And then a large piece of partially rotted cardboard. We were expecting to find someone's grandmother or at the very least a beloved pet, so he dug for a bit deeper. To find...
Nothing.
Thank God!
Posted by: liz at September 19, 2006 06:13 PM
That was so hysterical and trust me, I think everyone has had a few similar moments in their lives.
Just last week my roommate had to make an emergency stop while on the highway in DC (during rush hour no less) and laid down a deuce in the woods. In her words, mucho sympathy to the poor park ranger that happens upon the scene...
Posted by: Liz at September 19, 2006 07:20 PM
i can't believe you told me that.
i think i'll still come back, but i can't look you directly in the eyes for a while.
Posted by: Sarcomical at September 20, 2006 03:33 AM
Sweet, sweet Poppy... I know we all talk about throwing shit away - an old comic book, a used condom, a ham bone - but you took the saying literally! While I've never experienced this situation, I must commend you on your aim Annie Oakley.
Posted by: Big Daddy B at September 20, 2006 07:29 AM
It's my first time at your site and I have to say that I am royally impressed. As someone who has had her fair share of, um, issues in that department, I look up to you in awe.
OK, so maybe THAT'S too much sharing considering this is the first time we've met.
Posted by: Stephanie A. at September 20, 2006 09:03 AM
Do I need to buy you a big box of "oops! I crapped my pants" brand adult diapers? Cause I totally will.
Posted by: Julie at September 20, 2006 01:08 PM
from time to time i have what i like to call gastrointestinal distress. it can strike at any time and with no warning. i was on my way home on the subway when i got "the twinge". i am two stops and three blocks from my apartment. i thought i was going to literally lose my shit right there at the 68th street stop. i managed to pull it together until i got to my apartment building, which is a five story walk up. running up stairs is not ideal for trying to hold it in... then there is the finding of the keys in the huge handbag, the fumbling of the keys and the frantic run into the bathroom where i just made it. sadly i don't need a bug for this scenario to happen... i guess i am just lucky (and know where all the bathrooms in NY are)
Posted by: libbyfish at September 20, 2006 01:16 PM
Ho. Lee. Shit. On both counts!
Posted by: michelle/weaker vessel at September 20, 2006 01:38 PM
Been there, done that. But didn't hit the trash can. Good aim. Get to feeling better.
Cassie
Posted by: Cassie at September 21, 2006 02:30 PM
