Wednesday, May 13, 2009

One Time At Band Camp

Not really. Although GJ did play the flute (feebly) and piano (loudly) for a few years during her adolescence. So anyway. This one time in Fart Wayne GJ was preggers with the Dazzle Horn (B). GJ was still wallowing in self pity from the move to Fart and the fact that she was pregnant. GJ really does not enjoy being pregnant. Someone (fine...GJ's OB) had just called to announce that GJ was diabetic. Now, GJ knew it was from the 15 poptarts and Mountain Dew that she had consumed in the waiting room prior to the test, but didn't feel it appropriate to tell the OB this. Who would believe GJ anyway? Pregnant people do NOT partake in such a diet. That's ridiculous. GJ just had not been feeling like herself and with the new sugar baby syndrome was just generally feeling like shit. After several phone calls to the lawyer hubby ("SUGAR...some of us have to work"), GJ decided to just drag herself to the OB. Upon arrival at the office of the OB, GJ whipped open the door and announced that she was in labor. Pandemonium ensued and two hours later it was determined that GJ should shut the fuck up. It was just a bladder infection. After obtaining antibiotics, GJ marched home and threw herself into bed. Poor A just meandered around the house playing horse doctor..."GET IN YOUR STALL. YOU ARE STICK. YOUR PEE IS FULL OF BUGS". While resting GJ's fab dog Lu entered the room all weird and drooly like. GJ looked. Re-looked. And looked again only to determine that it was too late. Lu barfed fluorescent yellow all over the builder grade carpet and bed. Crying, GJ laid on the floor clutching her bladder and simultaneously cleaning up dog vomit. The down comforter was dragged down the stairs to the new, sparkling front loader. GJ's only request upon purchasing a new washer and dryer were that they would wash a king sized down comforter. Fifteen minutes into the "clean the dog barf off of this" cycle the washing machine blew up. Crying again, GJ dragged the 5000lb comforter, full of water, out to the deck to dry. And 15 minutes later "Terry" the pterodactyl or blue heron if you will (more on this later) flew over the comforter and shit on it. And this friends was the worst day in all of GJ's life.

SIDE NOTE...the GJ loves a comma whether it belongs or not. Like it. GJ may have also missed a few. Like that too.


  1. Ah, GJ, I remember this day. And am proud that you survived - a stronger, better, person for it. Please, more on Terry . . .

  2. Oh, Joo. That was indeed a very bad day. ,,,