Monday, March 26, 2012

dramatic turn of events

JJ had a four day weekend. so i didn't bother blogging while i had all the time in the world to bug him. it was glorious to have him hanging around all the time. we took Cleo to the beach, ran errands, snuggled on the couch, went to the hunger games and chinese food with friends and had the best time ever.

and then it ended abruptly and harshly this morning. first, i had a terrible night of sleep because Cleo was having one of her "episodes" where she shivers violently and is all pitiful looking. then, on his way out the door to his new job this morning, JJ said "oh. i clogged the toilet and can't find the plungerrrrrrrrrr loveyoubye" alsdjflaskdjflaksdjflkasdfj. he shut the door and i shouted out "WHYYYYYYYYYYY" and threw my hands dramatically up in the air. then i realized we DON'T have a plunger. and the rite aid didn't open until 8. but i had to poo real REAL bad. like sweaty forehead bad. i tried to hold it, but really, when you are 7 months pregnant and constantly constipated, a hankering to poo is like a little miracle. so i just HAD to go. i almost went outside like a dog. but instead chose the path of civilized human and just pooped on top of JJ's poop. it was so disgusting. then i went to rite aid in my pajamas to buy a plunger but i couldn't find them. so i had to ask the worker where they kept the plungers. so embarr. but the good news is that i happened upon a nice deal on butterfinger chocolate eggs on my way to the checkout. when i got home i let Cleo out to pee and then i plunged and i plunged and i almost puked and then the toilet was fixed.

i got dressed and made my lunch and on my way out the door to work, i went outside to call Cleo in. no response. "TREATS!" "BYE-BYE!" "LET'S GO TO THE BEACH!" "WANNA GO FOR A WALK?" no response. panic. tears. hyperventilation. frantic phone call to Mom. frantic drive all around neighborhood, to the dog beach, etc. call to work to tell them Cleo ran away and i cannot come in. big, ugly sobs. call to humane society. out back to try to call her again. nothing. full. on. panic. attack. picturing dead Cleo on side of road. picturing someone stealing Cleo because she's so cute. freak out even more. scream. cry. etc. it was all very dramatic. then, finally FINALLY, two hours later, Cleo is found. cold and wet and dirty and shivering. i squeezed her until her eyes popped out and cried into her hair. i wrapped her up tightly like a baby in a blanket and she hasn't left my side since. pooooor little puppet. and poooooor old L. and poooooor tiny JF. that was a lot of stress for all of us on this monday morning. now we are snuggled up having a day in watching mad men on the dvr and eating butterfinger eggs.

all is calm and well again.

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