My mother tried to kill me this morning.
My sharp military skills woke me to the sound of the door to my room opening. My mother peeked her head in and with a tone that spoke of death she said her hateful words, “I got them up, changed Legend, fed them and got them dressed. They are ready to do go. I have to go to work now.” ……the witch.
Mother then closed the door. The click of the door latch was, I am sure, like the sound of the door closing for a man about to get the electric chair.
They were in the room. I could feel it.
I couldn’t fully see yet as although my mind was sharp my eyesight is that of a grizzly bear awaking from hibernation. I tried to focus and like a horror movie trailer the soggy one came into view. He was standing right next to my bed. I was paralyzed with fear. I just laid there staring at him…
…until he poked me in the eye with a resounding victory cry of “DA DA”…
Half blind, I sprinted deep under my covers. It wasn’t until I stopped that I realized what a mistake I had made. Like most, my demons hunt by movement. Like a cat “the Narc” (who is now so named, as the night before he dimed me out at diner for giving him cheetos, a chocolate bar and oreo cookies for lunch to my mom.) pounced onto the covers. With a deadly matchbox car in each hand he proceeded to run me over time and time again. I knew I needed to act fast or the droning micro auto manslaughter would surely kill me. That and the fact that I really needed to pee.
I moved slowly out of the covers in an effort to not draw the attention of the Narc. He continued to pound the empty covers making explosion noises as if it was some sick game. I got my feet on the floor. My muscle tensed as I prepared to move quickly away from the bed.
I spotted the soggy one on the other side of the room. He stood quietly and smiled at me. I should have know….I should have known right then that the little angelic smile he produced hid the evil intent of a tiny criminal mastermind.
I took one step and pain resounded from my foot up my entire body. I immediately hoped from the foot in distress to the other ped. Pain then shot through that foot as well. It was then that I realized that the little bastard had mined the floor with sharp metal spikes that looked like tonka trucks. I tried to walk through the minefield carefully and unnoticed but my previous convulsions of pain had garnered the attention of the demons.
“Where you going daddy?” the Narc asked sounding as creepy as any child can.
“Valhalla” I Bruce Willis’ed back. My attempt at humor was lost on the demons.
“Where?” The Narc asked. “Where?” The soggy one echoed. “Where?” the Narc barked again. “Where” the soggy one again repeated. They looked at each other for a less than a second….but the game had begun and the stakes were my sanity. “Where, where, where, where, where, where...” the duo screamed. I dove into the bathroom to avoid the sonic pounding. It was here that my half asleep mind let me down. I swung the door behind me and it closed….I did not close the door and lock it as any father will tell you is a must. A foolish mistake….and it cost me.
The demons stopped their sonic attack. It went quiet. To quiet. I began to think I was safe and lowered my guard. Then the culmination of my mistakes came crashing together as I began to pee. It was at that very second that the demons breeched the door. With the agility of a SWAT team the demons drove into the bathroom. The door now firmly planted between my butt cheeks prevented me from moving backwards to try and block the doorway. The unstopping stream of urine prevented me from moving left or right. The demons took up position on each side of me. The Narc attacked first unsettling me by asking, “What are you doing daddy?” quickly followed by the soggy one pointing at my private parts.
There comes a time in every man’s life where he must decide, pee on his children or suffer the loss of his dignity. I like every man before me choose the later. Still, I was not about to go down without a fight. In the position of an Olympic Ski Jumper just before take off I yelled, “will you get the hell out of here” followed by a wicked swatting motion of my hand. The demons, with their prize, left the bathroom. Like an angry mule I kicked the door closed and sat with my thoughts…did I fill out the census already….did I put the children on it….would they be missed if they disappeared…these questions filled my head.
I could hear them laughing at me. I didn’t want to come out. It was then I heard it. The demons had my cell phone. (I should have added that one - http://bulletins.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=bulletin.read&authorID=37196693&messageID=6657030742 ). I had but one choice…get it back. If I did not do something fast Thailand, Guam, Russia and New Jersey would suffer an endless slew of crank calls. I moved slow from the bathroom. So slow I was invisible to the demons. I navigated the metal spike field and passed the new secondary defense line of crushed corn flakes and was able to sneak up on the Narc as he wildly pushed buttons on my cell phone. I could hear the poor little thing crying out in pain as numbers rang from it. In a swift move I snatch the Narc’s little victim yelling, “Gimmie that!” It worked…the Narc stared at me…stunned. He knew and I knew that I may not have been paying attention in the bathroom…but he wasn’t paying attention with the cell phone. The score may not be even, but I felt better.
The saga continues…..
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