I am beginning to see the value of a husband.

After I escaped the evil clutches of the desert of MORDOR (yes, I lived in Mordor. I refer to it as a desert because there was no water…ever. Turning on taps at work became a favourite pastime to cleanse my soul, because I would be so very excited that something was coming out.), I moved to Foreverland. Foreverland is a nice place to live. It is very, very far from my kind mother who brings me nyoyo and nyuka. Ah, nyuka…however, it has its benefits. Namely…RUNNING WATER. So far, I feel that is all…I need…to get by…hehe.

Now, on my second night, it rained cats and dogs (refer to previous post before I launch into another lyrical…waxation on said topic…it also rained other things, as you will soon see. By Jove, I hate the rainy season.), and thus, Foreverland turned into a massive pond. As I stepped out of the public tranportation vehicle that wa transporting me (also, I have not figured out any of the names of the stages around me. I keep throwing out arbitrary landmarks around the esto lest I land it. I am currently on the supermarket and kindergarten nearby), a small black…thing hopped and flailed about near my foot.

It was a cute little frog. I rapidly scurried away. Upon entering the estate, I met its mother. Not so little. Not so cute. I let out an embarrassing shriek (and thus met 2 of the neighbours, not counting the frogs) and ran past it trying to keep a healthy one metre between us (like it was a boy) and leapt (nine lords a’leaping, was it? Twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten maids a’milking, nine lords a’leaping,…no. Twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a’leaping, nine ladies dancing, eight maids a’milking, seven swans a’swimming, six geese a’laying fiiiiive golden riiiiings! Fourcallingbirdsthreefrenchhenstwoooturtledoves AND A PARTRIDGE IN A PEAR TREE! I barely like Christmas, but am apparently quite fond of digressing) into the digz. After which I proceeded to plug what now seems a gaping hole under the door (poor thing was probs just for ventilation).

When I got inside, everything just seemed to be making noises to agitate me. (of COURSE) I haven’t unpacked, so all the plasric and sijui what keeps making…noises to agitate me. And agitated I was.

My points are as follows:
1. Had there been a man around, I would have been too distracted to notice plastic getting comfortable on the floor. I realize that this works for any other species as well, but I started off with husbands, so.
2. A man would have valiantly offered to smash – ok, chase away – the gargantuan (3 inch. Like a killer heel.) Mother Toad (Motherload. Get it? Hehehehehehe) who was attempting to make my digz her home base. And I would have felt better.
3. All other critters would have been warned away from this valley of the shadow of death…ly husband.

Moral of the story? I need hypnotherapy for my phobias. For real, doe.

tSN

p.s. Am I the only one in the world who did not know that miscrepancy is NOT a word? For shame, internal dictionary. For SHAME. wags finger