crickets

I am sitting here watching the Tigers, again, as usual, which is par for the course for me every single day from April-OCTOBER (yeah baby, this year it WILL be OCTOBER) except the random Monday or Thursday travel day. It's best for all involved that I be left alone when undertaking this daily ritual, as I turn into Captain Tourette's.

"BLEEP BLEEP you BLEEPING sheep BLEEPING monkey BLEEP piles of BLEEP!!!!"

And that's when we're only up by a few runs. Tonight we started off down 7 RUNS after the FIRST INNING. It is now the 6th, and we are within one run (8-7 Indians winning).

Err...

BLEEPITY BLEEP BLEEP MOTHER BLEEPING BLEEPNUTS

9-7 Indians.

I am free to spew obscenities at the top of my lungs this week without fear that Molly-the-human-parrot will immediately pick one of them up and decide it should be the name of one of her stuffed animals. She AND Murphy are both on vacation this week, up north with Mamaw and Grampa Waters and Mamaw Hearsch, having a lovely time at the beach. Dan has class every night this week. This means that my house is totally. utterly. completely.

QUIET.

It is insane. And disconcerting. I have been away from Molly on business before, but having an entire house in which no one is snoring or muttering "dorrra...boooots...choc-ate millllk" in their sleep and in which there is no 115 lb lump of fur to trip over is just WEIRD. Even when Dan gets home from class around 10 or 11, we sit here and look at each other like "what exactly DID we do before we had a kid? or a dog? Or laptops? I mean, at some point, did we talk to each other?? Did we watch something on television during which neither of us was IMing someone or studying?"

I can actually hear crickets outside. Over my obscene mutterings of course.

One upside of this dependent-free week -- the poop quantity and responsibility is massively reduced. Each of the humans in this house is currently responsible SOLELY FOR THEIR OWN POOP THIS WEEK!!!!! I don't have to pick up dog poop! I don't have to feign excitement over toddler poop in the toilet and examine each piece like I'm checking out the prized jewels of the Nile and I don't have to explain to anyone that no, those are NOT raisins in the potty and I do not have to yell "BYE BYE POOPY!!!" every time I flush away a bowel movement!! (although I can if I want to. You can't stop me) And Dan can get his own candy if he wants a pooping reward!!! It is a thing of beauty.

So, I am off to scream at the TV some more and enjoy my eerily quiet night. Last night I ended up having to turn Molly's Baby Einstein CD on to try to help me fall asleep. Didn't work. Also -- I do not recommend that any human being try to watch "The Passion of the Christ" after 1) eating anything in the last 3 days that you don't want to see back up in your lap and 2) within 12 hours of trying to sleep. We started watching at 11:45 last night. Bad. Bad. Idea. Hopefully my nightmares tonight will be limited to misplayed grounders.