Laundry Room Raider
Not able to sleep again tonight. M and I talked in the dark for an hour, and then I decided to be kind and go downstairs. Actually, I went all the way downstairs to the laundry room, got out the ironing board and a pile of wrinkled work shirts, and set out to be a model of insomnia-induced productivity. I hate ironing, especially since we have a really cheap iron that doesn't work too well, but there's something soothing about the smell of lemon-scented starch in the wee hours of the morning.
As I ironed I was mildly ashamed to find myself watching Room Raiders on MTV. It was the Texas edition, y'all! Have you seen this show? Three young people (late teens to early twenties) of the same sex are "kidnapped" and thrown into the back of a van. While they watch the action remotely, a member of the opposite sex goes into all three bedrooms and chooses someone for a date based on what he/she finds in the room. It's full of "Oh my God, dude!" and sexual innuendo.
Hot Texan Room-Raiding Woman: Oh, I see you have a surfboard. It's long.
Dude: Hell yeah, it's long! (looks at other two guys) Oh my God, dude! Get it? I'm talking about my GENITALS! (all three guys high-five)
Hot Texan Room-Raiding Woman: Well, I don't know how to surf, but maybe you can teach me one day. (bats eyelashes)
Dude: Hell yeah, I'll teach you! (looks at other two guys) Get it? I'm talking about SEX! (all three guys thump their chests and howl at the moon)
Inevitably, a box of condoms or an underwear drawer is discovered and revealed to the camera. Sometimes something really embarrassing is unearthed, like a high school band uniform, or a love poem written in sixth grade.
Please be my love
You were sent from above
And when I say "above", I mean HEAVEN
Let's meet at the 7-11
(wait, are those actually lyrics to a NKOTB song?)
Anyhow, Alex kept coming down to check on me, as he is disturbed by any interruption in the household routines. After I loved him up and reassured him, he went to the kitchen and stared up at the treat cabinet. I agreed to give him a Snausage if he let me take some pictures first.
Again with the camera? Okay, I know enough not to fight it.
Just sit. Stay. Wait it out. She'll go back to ironing eventually.
Yup-- first the eyes, then the rear end. There's a
method to my madness.
M bought him a new toy last week. It's a dog wearing a purple leisure suit and sunglasses that says, "Fugeddaboutit!" when squeezed. We named it Uncle Vito. Alex promptly broke its kneecaps.