Gather around my little, innocent chickies. Gather and I will show you something. Something horrible; so come closer only if you dare.
The night was long and my drive made it longer. I found myself shouting my favorite songs to the steering wheel and serenading the road signs as they stared at me; hypnotized by my oncoming headlights and melodic voice. I too felt the road zombie-virus taking its hold. I sang louder and rolled down my window. I sound just like Abba when the volume is that high and J-Lo? She got NUTHIN on me. We be from the same damn block. heeheehee. Those are the thoughts that sauntered through my exhausted brain. I had been defeated and beat up at work for far too many days in a row. I had tried to be the Christopher Robin and acknowledge that I was brave enough, strong enough... you know how it goes; but my peers felt differently. They were definitely in Eeyore's camp: "It doesn't matter. It will just fall off anyway...."
But there was a tiny ember glowing. One of hope, one of optimism. I was headed to my lake and I was going to stay there for a week. I was going to wake up, sip coffee in my jammies and watch the world rush off to work and busy life. I was not going to join them and was looking forward to actually doing a little giggling and pointing. (You know how I love that.) This was my driving force; my goal. So I hugged Gizmo's wheel lovingly and pushed the gas with just a tiny bit more to go. I could do this; reach my Nirvana.
The street lights one by one disappeared. I arrived at my oasis at midnight with eyes burning, fingers numb from gripping the wheel and a sore throat. Who knew Elton John's "I'm Still Standing" could do that? Not me. But with the volume up? We are both Queens with soul.
I pulled in the drive, relishing the soft, crunching welcome the gravel was giving me. It was so very late after all...shhhhhh. I opened the door and was greeted by the toddlers and one sexy husband. "Welcome to vacation" This was where he presented me with fresh bruschetta and wine. What's not to love? My exhaustion was turning to satisfaction. I was dreaming of a wonderful sleep; deep and comforting.
I trudged up the last set of stairs- no small task if you've been to the lake house. I stopped and got my first full breath in weeks. I dropped my bags and I stripped off my clothes, my worries and woes...oh and my bra. That right there should give you all a collective sigh; am I right? Of course. I slipped into one of the world's oldest and most decadent tee shirts, brushed my teeth (for those of you who care about dental hygiene- I dedicate that moment to you) and slathered on my favorite wrinkle warrior in a jar. Sandman cometh. Taketh me to your castle where I will rule with a soft fist and gentle breath.
The darkness soothed me, the dogs snuggled and I was gone. Thankfully gone.
That my chickies is where the sidewalk ends and the broken, jagged journey begins. I opened my eyes and smiled. I heard the dogs sighing and my husband mumbling in blissful slumber. I rolled over to see the marvel that is my life.
WRONG-I was confronted with an evil so dark and demonic that I covered my mouth to stifle the screeches billowing from my stomach like rotting bile. Tears instantly sprang to my eyes and spilled over onto what could have been a pillow; a stone, a cluster of thumb tacks. My first vision of the morning? A soccer ball dangling at the corner of the eaves. My mind stuttered and tried to understand what I was focusing on and then it clicked. I was gazing upon a writhing mess of fucking BEES. I slid from under the blankets, dropping to the floor (so they couldn't see me of course) I crawled on my hands and knees toward the bathroom where I thought I could close the door and cry. Oh no. I found not one but two dead centuries on the carpet. They were waiting for me. They knew I would come. I felt the trembling begin in my elbows and shimmy down to my knees. I thought I was going to poop on the carpet. I begged God to save me. Turning to stare at the tiny Death Star I saw the devils zooming in and out. Three at a time. Oh a forth- One just went out, hauled a u-ie and went back in to be counted twice. Bastards. All of them. I crumpled myself between the shower and the tub, rocking back and forth, trying to devise an escape plan. Standing tall and smoothing my hair I chose adulthood. I brushed my teeth (hygiene reference) and opened the door. " I got this. I will not be harmed. I will..." run like a Olympic sprinter at qualifying time. There was a whoosh and curtain movement as I zipped down the stairs and into the kitchen. But the toddlers didn't understand so they came rushing after me collecting at my feet. My tribe was safe. But not Cheech. What would I do without my beloved? How could I save him from the seething collection of teensy angry needles just begging for a place to poke? Certain death awaited him if he remained in that Satan's Sanctuary. The Pit of venomous pricks... hey that sounds like a bar I went to once. While I was pondering risking my life or collecting insurance, he emerged; groggy and coffee deprived. I fixed his wagon and let him join the living. I reached over and lovingly caressed his shoulder.
"Whatcha got planned for today?" I cooed innocently.
"Eh. Nothing..." he looked over the rim of his mug. "S'up?"
"oh well... nothing really... " I thought I was playing so cool.
"Where are the bees?" he asked flatly.
"Wha???? What do you mean? Bees. Ha... Where are there be... They are right above our fucking bed and if you don't kill them with fire, I will never let you play with my boobies again."
Yes. Subtlety is my gift. I teach a class on Wednesdays.
He snorted into his coffee and leaned over to kiss me. My warrior. My Lancelot. My vacation and dreams would be rescued. Nothing could stop him. I collected seventeen cans of wasp spray and prayed it would be enough. We have no paint left on that side of the house and there is a Stephen King type cloud still hovering over the porch. But I felt safe. I noticed the smile returning to my face. I went upstairs to reclaim my boudoir.
I heard a soft melody and realized I was humming. Damn I sound just like Adelle. I brushed my teeth and began to get ready for my beautiful day by getting out of my amazing jammies and picking out an outfit that made me feel stunning (it WAS vacation after all) So I made the bed-nekkid. I flipped up the covers, spying a tiny fleck jumping in the middle of the bed... I leaned over to see ... a hornet. I began to sweat. I coaxed myself to get my shoe. Death comes to those so unholy. as I turned it over to take on the form of death hammer, another fell out. I gasped and began to beat, pummel, pound and smack until spittle dribbled from my mouth and I had actually made bee-butter. Each crunch brought me into the fold of a maniacal frenzy. Panting and covered in perspiration I dumped the blanket right into the washer. Venom is easily remove with laundry soap and a little fabric fresh. Did you remember I was nekkid? I was my own peep show for sure. I gathered my wits because I had tossed them all over the floor while abusing the comforter and began to dress. As I picked up my shorts, one last hornet fell to the floor. I felt the sneer slide across my mouth; crooked and hateful. My teeth, although sparkling, gnashed together and without thought or care, I snatched a rag from the counter, scooped up the winged demon and began pinching. My pulse thundered in my ears, my brow furrowed. There could never be enough death to bees.
I looked around. All was silent. I nodded slowly understanding my test was complete. The universe was done pushing me and I had succeeded. The villains were gone.
I trotted down the stairs singing... what else? The Go-Go's "Vacation"... I sound just like Belinda. One day she should thank me for all I taught her.....
Laugh with me. I know it's foolish but those little turds are my end to sanity. I'm glad you're here. Have a wonderful day.
Cheers.
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