…..it wasn’t pretty.
There are a few things you need to know before I begin my tale of woe.
First of all, I am the tiniest bit completely obsessed with germs. You would think that this would translate into a totally sterile, immaculate house, but unfortunately that is not how my mind works. Instead I have “safe zones,” where I can function like a reasonably normal human being, and “contaminated zones,” which I avoid at all costs. The contaminated zones consist of the mudroom, the bathrooms, and the downstairs hallway. The hallway is actually the convergence of two contaminated zones – the mudroom and the downstairs bathroom. It’s a very frightening place for me. Anything that touches one of these contaminated zones must be completely sanitized before it can be moved into another zone. I know. I need help.
The second thing you must know is that we recently acquired a dog. No, I haven’t been trying to keep this a secret, I just haven’t had time to write about her yet. Like all of my pets, she is slightly neurotic. She refuses to eat dog food. This caused her to have a little upset tummy over the weekend.
On with the tragic tale…
At the beginning of the summer, I set a goal to be in bed by 11:00 each night. Last night was the second time I actually accomplished it. I was so proud of myself as I settled in for a good night’s sleep. The dog seemed to be feeling better, but I still put her in her portable kennel next to my bed to sleep, just to be safe. I drifted off to sleep with thoughts of Colin Firth floating through my head.
At approximately 2:10 AM, I was startled awake by a strange noise. I looked up to see the kennel wandering through my bedroom like a giant weeble-wobble. Yes, you read that sentence correctly. The kennel was walking through the room. Apparently the dog need to go potty. I groaned, let her out of the kennel, and we headed downstairs.
Fifteen minutes later, we were ready to go back to bed. Since the kennel wasn’t working too well, I decided to just lock her in the bedroom with us. That way I’d still be able to keep an eye on her, but without the weeble-wobble trickiness.
As I settled back into bed, I turned to look at Todd and saw that HE WAS USING A CONTAMINATED PILLOW! It was the pillow that Sarah had thrown on the hallway floor after girl’s camp and I hadn’t had time to sterlize it yet. Sarah had taken his pillow while he was out of town, and not understanding my rules, he had decided to use hers as a replacement. So there you have it. Todd’s whole side of the bed was covered in germs. When I saw the pillow, I gave a little scream of terror. This woke Todd up, and thinking that there must be something seriously wrong, he jumped up with the pillow in hand, ready to bash whatever horror I had discovered. He was not pleased when he realized his pillow was the cause of my distress.
Trying to control my panic and avoid as many germs as possble, I scooted my pillow waaaay over to the edge of my bed and tried to make myself comfortable on the smallest area possible. The dog took this as an invitation to jump up and visit me. SHE PUT HER PAWS ON MY PILLOW.
Now there was no escape from the germs. They were everywhere, gleefully taunting me.
I flipped over my pillow and did my best to not break into total hysterics. I even managed to relax a little bit. And then…
The dog started scratching at the door. Now, she had just been outside. And she loves to sleep on the beanbag chair in the loft. I thought that was what she wanted, so I ignored her. She scratched some more. I ignored her some more. She threw up on my floor. I guess I deserved that one.
Thirty minutes later, she was scratching at the door again. This time, I got up to let her out.
Thirty minutes after that, Jakob woke up. Todd put him in bed with us. I was now sleeping in a contaminated bed with a snoring baby on my head, but I was too tired to care.
At 5:30, the dog scratched again. This time, she really did just want to sleep on the beanbag. I let her.
At 6:30, the alarm went off.
I hate my life.
And yes, my bed has been sterilized today.