It is sad, but true. I am afflicted with the sense of humor of a Jr. High aged boy. I am ashamed. Double Shot is equally afflicted. But he is a 15 year old boy, so he can get away with it. I love to hear about all things "poo." However, other bodily functions I will not speak of in mixed company and will nearly burst into flame at their mere mention. And that is all I will say about that.
Double Shot did not have school today. I had great plans for us to accomplish much... but it has yet to happen. You see, we've been laughing. Hysterically. To the point of near unconsciousness. I'm not joking. At one point, I was gasping for air and everything before me went white. I wondered for a brief moment if it was the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel and prepared myself to run leaping and twirling before it only to have it fade away and see the reality of the dirty house awaiting my ministering.
We used to be on that "no call list." Someone must have lost it because, apparently, we are now on the "call every five minutes list." We do have call waiting so we usually just don't answer. It is still most annoying! The other day, Double Shot answered the phone and proceeded to act... er... ummm... well... mentally challenged. Unfortunately, not much of a stretch. That is, of course, due to my spectacular genetic code obviously passed on in spades to him. However, I have the ability to mask my Jr. High humor leanings when needed. He has yet to develop that skill. It was so funny that...
Believe me, I am hanging my head in shame as I type this, I did it. The other night. Mr. Macchiato wasn't home. Double Shot was and he heard me. I didn't stay on long but I did a mighty fine job. I am sure whoever was on the other end thought they had reached a home for the clinically insane. Well, a home for the clinically insane with major laryngitis or tuberculosis or maybe some kind of plague. Double Shot laughed so hard he fell on the floor.
So, here we are today. Waiting. We've been waiting and waiting. We've made our plans and practiced them. Thus the laughing hysterically. Not one solicitor of any kind has called us! Mr. Macchiato called. He needed to talk to me about some family business matters. I, of course, had been laughing and didn't calm down quickly enough to satisfy his longings for a normal wife. He told me we were freaks. Oh yes he did girlfriends (and any dudes that read this). But don't worry. He meant it in the kindest most nicest way. I assure you. No, really.
I guess we are playing a kind of reverse prank phone call. I never did prank calls when I was a kid. I thought it was rude. And I thought I'd get in trouble. And I just don't like that sort of thing. However, if y'all knew how many times I've answered the phone that doesn't have the caller ID on it and been trapped into talking to a solicitor and had to listen to them tell me to repeat myself over and over... tell me to speak up.... tell me to speak more clearly.... or... and trust me, this has happened many times... hang up on me... you would understand.
So I apologize to the poor solicitors who have called here. I do. I know you probably hate your jobs. Hopefully, it was a little excitement in the monotony of your work day and gave you something to titter about with your co-workers. And I thank you if you put our name and number back on the no call list.
If you've never laughed until you've been surrounded by white light and your sides hurt so bad you are not sure you can manage another breath... You should try it sometime.