Said He Was Sick, And I Believed Him

Picture this:

I walk out of my office(a.k.a my bedroom) after finishing work for the day. The entire downstairs is filled with a haze, and I smell something cooking. I turn the fan on above the stove to clear the air. I can hear a child shouting off in the distance. I walk passed the living room. There are blankets and pillows on the floor, the recliner is in the reclined position (footstool and all), and the TV is on. No one is in the room but the dogs, who have made themselves comfy and warm in the strewn blankets.

I continue on to the bathroom. Nature is calling, and it's an emergency. I begin to do my thing, and to my surprise (not really), there is a gift floating in the toilet, covered in gobs of toilet paper, unflushed. Almost peeing my pants, I flush the toilet, praying that it goes down because the plunger is downstairs in the basement and has been for a week now where I used it to unstop the sink.

This scene is constructed by my youngest son(he provides me with so much to write about!).....the one that swore he was so sick this morning, he couldn't possibly go to school. I should've known.

The smell of cooking was coming from the electric skillet that he left plugged in after making a grilled cheese sandwich an hour earlier. The haze was from the skillet. It filled the entire first level. The shouting I heard was from him, upstairs, yelling at the PS2 because the men in his game were not cooperating(you can't tell him that it's the operator. He gets mad. It's never his fault! Yelling at the game apparently helps.). The blankets and pillows in the living room were his. He slept until 10am, at which time, he threw the blankets aside and went about his day, destroying my house in his apparent sickened state. He never un-reclines(is that a word?) the recliner. It irritates the hell out of me!

I'll let you draw your own conclusions on what the gift was in the toilet. I don't think that needs any explanation. Just know that I barely held my bodily fluids long enough to let the toilet finish flushing. Why I can't sit on a toilet with floaters, I don't know. Guess I'm just weird that way.

That leads me to another little tidbit I bet you didn't know about me, and probably couldn't care less. If I go into a public restroom and there's anything in the toilet, I'll go to another stall. Is that weird? Do you do that, or will you flush it and use that stall anyway?

Hmm....those random thoughts are pushing their way in again.

Gross, I know.