Tuesday, May 1, 2007

Day One of the Auntie Mame Move Around

Wherein Beauregard has to go ask Shaman whether or not he ‘sees bone,’ and Auntie and Nessie touch inappropriately.

We are getting a piano. Beauregard (Beau for purposes of my having to type out Beauregard every time I mention my husband) has inherited an upright piano. This is wonderful news. Beau loves to play and had already been talking about when Glowbug would begin to take lessons/play. We got the news about a month ago and because I am such an overly organized procrastinator, we have waited until the week before we are to get the dang thing to rearrange our 1400 square foot town home that’s more of a row house.
Today is our first day of moving things around to make space for the thing. It is Monday. I hate my job. Glowbug is in a cry-ie-I-just-want-Momma mood, which I normally adore, but because I am already in a foul mood because of my depressing job, makes me feel, too depended on and I sigh all evening.
Beau is wonderful and takes my little Glowbug up to bed so I can relax a bit and talk with Shaman our neighbor who is in the process of moving across town. Why? Because his landlords are mean and he can’t afford to outright buy the place. To be honest, had I known then what I know now I wouldn’t have bought this place either, but I digress. Shaman is our regular dinner guest/TV night partner/Xbox enthusiast. He and I are talking away about how much sucking is involved with moving when Beau comes downstairs and asks if I’m ready to get started. I’ve already forgotten tonight’s phase of the move due to the previously mentioned sighing. So Shaman leaves and promises to make many breaks to see our own progress and I go and get changed.
Whilst I am gone, Beau decides that part of moving the furniture around includes fixing our ridiculously broken sofa and loveseat. Knowing that I would tell him that is a dumb idea, he already has the sofa pretty much taken apart by the time I come downstairs from changing. I sigh some more, move to the computer and begin a conversation with my sister, Dolly, about our usual topic: our insane parents. Of course this is peppered with random Instant Messages from Bea.
While I’m sitting there, typing away, Beau mentions that the fish tank needs to be cleaned out to prepare for the slide it is about to make across the room to its new location. OK, I have cleaning the fish tank down to an art form, but Beau tells me that it isn’t good enough to just be cleaned – it also needs to be about half emptied. We have a 35-gallon, tall fishtank with four fish and a bottom feeder thing that started out the size of a broken crayon and now is about the length of my forearm (apparently we have a lot of food on the bottom of our tank). At this point Shaman comes over for a break and I put him to work talking to Bea. Meanwhile I am debating within myself the best way to start the hose on the fishtank that will suck the water out. I know that I am going to have to put my mouth on this hose and there is a damn good chance I will taste the fish water, however I cannot bring myself to do this. I plead with Shaman that he was in the military he must know of another way, but he doesn’t. So I do what I have to and almost throw up in the process. I’m gagging away, about to throw up in the bucket, Shaman is laughing with Bea, when all of a sudden Beau yelps like a small dog. I don’t pay much attention (because I’m about to blow chunks) when I hear “Dude, is this bone?” Apparently Beau was using a flathead screwdriver to pull up staples from the upholstery of our sofa when it slipped and he cut a chunk out of his thumb. Shaman laughs that it isn’t, and notes the chaos that is reigning at my 1400 square foot home. I calm down long enough to ask Beau if he is OK, and despite the blood dripping from his knuckle, he says he is. I return to my ‘vacuuming’ of the bottom of the fishtank when Nessie (my darling bottom feeder) gets upset that there is something doing her job and attacks my hand, smacking her way up my arm until she is out of the water then dropping back into the water. I am screaming, Beau is cleaning up blood, Shaman is telling me that Dolly is yelling that I’m not talking to her, and Glow Bug wakes up.
This night was chaotic and not happy; however, we got everything downstairs moved. Glow Bug went back to sleep almost immediately, Beau’s thumb stopped bleeding long enough to get our work done, and Nessie lived through the ordeal. I, on the other hand, may not; after all, this was only the first day.

1 comment:

Lady Bea said...

Wow. So THAT'S what the hell was going on at your house last night? I wondered what was up when Shaman hopped into our chat and started talking about shipping you off to Zimbabwe. And that you were happy to go. Sorry, dude. Also? There is totally another way to do the hose thing. And I'm glad you decided on a nome de blog for Beau. Heh.