I hate how stuff collects under the couch. I found Nerf bullets, cherry pits, Sharpies, Bics, clear plastic wrappers, crackers, Nerf cartridges, cat toy puffs, dried olives, a button that said "My Melody" with an ugly bunny on it, iPhone charger cubes, couch screws that explain why the whole couch twists when Nick pops the foot rest, Post-It Notes, mechanical pencils, a warren of dust bunnies, and dried cat puke.
There was no remote.
Mike and Nick were both still sick with that nasty flu last night. Nick went to bed after coughing up a lung until about midnight. Then, Mike came out and watched some television and coughed up a lung until dawn. I'm surprised I didn't find chunks of lung under the couch.
This morning, when I made a little morning noise, woke Mike up, watched him shamble into the bedroom for more sleep with the TV still stuck on the Amazon Prime station, I noticed there was no remote. I stuck my hands down into the cushions. This action is remotely dangerous since some staples came out of the wood after ten years of activity. Yet it's also fuzzy with dog hair and crunchy with crumbs, a tactile buffet. Funny, how a variety of blind sensations is so unpleasant when combined. I don't get grossed out fishing those last crunchy bits out of the bottom of the bag of tortilla chips. I definitely don't mind running my fingers through Mike's hair or Teddy or Seth's fur. I don't even mind picking up an olive when I drop it on the carpet. And yet ...
The Universe said it was time to clean under the couch. It was. I get it, Universe. I'm not sick any more. Family arrives tomorrow. Your message speaks loud and clear. And I get that you're not going to give back the remote until the house is picked up, extraneous stuff is donated, windows are clean, the piano is dusted, the floor under the bed is vacuumed, dog-fur-dust bunnies are evicted, and the new remote arrives from Amazon on Saturday morning.
I get it, Universe. Gratitude. Gratitude for the lesson. This is where I might put the sarcastic emoticon if there were one. But maybe I shouldn't. The Universe is not forgiving. It's not. Have you ever seen the Sahara or the asteroid belt or the pit of a volcano cauldron?
Thank you for listening, jules
P.S. Just now, my husband went after the couch in search of the remote. I would have said I searched it thoroughly. He didn't find the remote. He didn't. It is well and truly lost. But he did find the wallet he lost with over $500 in it. Thank you, Universe! Thank you!
There was no remote.
Mike and Nick were both still sick with that nasty flu last night. Nick went to bed after coughing up a lung until about midnight. Then, Mike came out and watched some television and coughed up a lung until dawn. I'm surprised I didn't find chunks of lung under the couch.
This morning, when I made a little morning noise, woke Mike up, watched him shamble into the bedroom for more sleep with the TV still stuck on the Amazon Prime station, I noticed there was no remote. I stuck my hands down into the cushions. This action is remotely dangerous since some staples came out of the wood after ten years of activity. Yet it's also fuzzy with dog hair and crunchy with crumbs, a tactile buffet. Funny, how a variety of blind sensations is so unpleasant when combined. I don't get grossed out fishing those last crunchy bits out of the bottom of the bag of tortilla chips. I definitely don't mind running my fingers through Mike's hair or Teddy or Seth's fur. I don't even mind picking up an olive when I drop it on the carpet. And yet ...
The Universe said it was time to clean under the couch. It was. I get it, Universe. I'm not sick any more. Family arrives tomorrow. Your message speaks loud and clear. And I get that you're not going to give back the remote until the house is picked up, extraneous stuff is donated, windows are clean, the piano is dusted, the floor under the bed is vacuumed, dog-fur-dust bunnies are evicted, and the new remote arrives from Amazon on Saturday morning.
I get it, Universe. Gratitude. Gratitude for the lesson. This is where I might put the sarcastic emoticon if there were one. But maybe I shouldn't. The Universe is not forgiving. It's not. Have you ever seen the Sahara or the asteroid belt or the pit of a volcano cauldron?
Thank you for listening, jules
P.S. Just now, my husband went after the couch in search of the remote. I would have said I searched it thoroughly. He didn't find the remote. He didn't. It is well and truly lost. But he did find the wallet he lost with over $500 in it. Thank you, Universe! Thank you!
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