Slinkys and Cupie Dolls

In 1999 I had my gall bladder removed, but prior to that, I lived in agonizing pain for a week while the doctors tried to decide if I had a cancerous mass or a hernia or an alien in my gut. While playing mad scientist, they medicated me with narcotics. The result was not pretty. I tried calling Social Services because G would not put sweaters on the boys and I was sure there was a blizzard outside - reality, it was 90 degrees. Then I started packing my bags, accusing poor G of being in love with his ex-wife and offering to step aside while they rekindled their romance - reality, well the only reality here is that I was really crazy. I was walking in my sleep and continued to try to get outside. G had to argue with me about me not driving myself to work and eventually threw my keys, pager, and cell phone into the back of the closet that we shared and let's face it - I do not do the back of a closet.

Skip ahead to oh say, tonight. G and I are sitting on the couch watching some TV before bed. Regardless of the fact that we are watching one of my favorite shoes, I am totally distracted. Why you ask? Well because I am seeing little people running through my kitchen. In fact, I almost started yelling at Chloe thinking it was her, but her hair is not short and curly. My big mistake - I told G about the little people in our kitchen. At which point, our evening was abruptly ended by him insisting that I go to bed. In fact, he said he would feel better if I was in bed as quick as possible, got nervous when I started blowing out the candles, and barely let me pee by myself.

Of course, I waited until he started snoring before sneaking down stairs for some tea and a little blog. Now if I could just get the slinky type creatures to stop flipping down the stairs while I type.