Friday, September 08, 2006

Sleep, that knits up the.... Oh, fuck it

It is a beautiful night tonight. The weather has finally cooled down, the moon is full, the breeze is mild, the crickets are singing softly out in the field. It is the kind of night that makes you think of poetry, and lover's rendezvous. The kind of night where I should be sleeping peacefully.

Instead, I am being kept awake by the smell of cat piss coming in through the windows, and the snoring of the two males in my bedroom. The Spouse Sparrow is doing the actual, serious snoring, and our 2-year-old, the Nestling Sparrow, is performing the imitation, "comedy," snoring. I can tell the Nestling Sparrow thinks that his dad snoring is a real laugh riot, what with the giggles in between his fake snores. I lay there in bed for a while, thinking that one or the other of them is bound to give up, sooner or later, what with my repeated exhortations of "Shhhh!" to the Nestling Sparrow, and the shoving of the Spouse Sparrow. I am in luck; they both finally do stop their snoring, and both go back to sleep. The moon is starting to set, and all is quiet.

I am starting to drift off again, into a world of blissful peace, towards the sleep that I so desperately need. I slip back toward the realm of dreams and poetry.... "Come into the garden, Maud...."

But there is no Maud in our garden. The only female in our garden is our large dog, Grace, and that is exactly the moment that she decides to take a huge, massive crap right underneath our bedroom window. The stench of this cannot be over-exaggerated, or escaped, and the warm, fuggy smell of dog dung wafts in through the open bedroom windows. There is no hope for me. If I get up and close the windows, that will wake up the entire household; if I continue laying there, I will seriously hork all over the bed. I get up, and make my way to the cold comfort of the computer.

And people wonder why I am up at all hours of the night.

Fat Sparrow

16 comments:

Foot Eater said...

You need to constipate your dog. Feed her some opiates. Come to think of it, that might take care of the snoring problem as well.

Spouse Sparrow said...

Just wait until she sees the baby poo all over the crib mattress she is sleeping (and snoring)next to, my babe had a shituation this morning as Connery would say.

Fat Sparrow said...

Foot -- No opiates for me, thanks. I'm allergic. I do wonder if the Nestling Sparrow will end up being allergic, too.

When I can afford to de-worm that dog, I'm sure that will help a lot. I'm still waiting on that Lottery win.

Spouse Sparrow -- Yes, I saw that, thanks. The washing machine and the dryer will be running for the next 6 hours. That was some assplosion.

Dr Maroon said...

Snoring a solution:

It's dead simple.
You sew a GOLFBALL into the pajama jaccket of hubby and sprog.
For the dog, you sew it directly into the poor canine's anus.
Oh he may complain at first, but eventually, once you've buried the dog, and had the sprog taken into care, the two of you will be able to lie back and listen to the crickets as that big ol'moon shines like a spoon over chez Sparrow...

Fat Sparrow said...

Um, the hubby sleeps in the all-together, so sewing that golf ball in may be a problem. I'm not shoving it up his hole, as he'd probably like that. Plus, God only knows what he'd do to me in return. Hmmm, on second thought....

Knowing my luck, after I'd bunged up the dog, she'd come in the house to explode and then decompose.

I suppose I shouldn't complain about the Spouse Sparrow, as my snoring can wake the dead. Once, at a campground, when I was sleeping in my motorhome, I woke up people for a quarter-mile around with my snoring. My ex-sister-in-law actually videorecorded the gathering that ensued. Some people had thought that it was a bear in the campground that was making the noise.

Me! said...

I don't understand the cat piss problem. Can't you just kill the cat?

Me! said...

Let me rephrase that. Birds loathe cats. Can't you just kill the cat?

Fat Sparrow said...

I would fucking well love to kill the cat, all umpteen-billion of them. Only 4 of them are mine, and I will be posting about those useless fuckers later on.

We have a LOT of stray, non-neutered (mine are all snipped) cats around here, and they just love to spray on anything and everything. The hubby chases them off when he can, and they won't come in our backyard because of the dogs, but they get up on our roof and spray our swamp cooler, the nasty buggers. Do you know what a swamp cooler is? If not, let me know.

Me! said...

Is it something from New Orleans?

Fat Sparrow said...

(laughs) No, but it smells like it after the cats have been pissing on it!

It's properly called an evaporative cooler -- it's a big metal box, hollow, with a fan in the center, and panels (with fabric and water dripping down them) on the sides, that sits on top of your roof, that's supposed to cool your house by sucking in air through the water-cooled pads, and blowing it down a hole in your ceiling. No freon involved.

They work great in the desert (of which this area is no longer one), and in areas of low humidity. In high humidity areas (of which this area is now one), it totally sucks, and your house is hot and damp, and you are miserable.

A very, very primitive method of cooling. I would sell my soul for central air conditioning, not that I could afford to run it.

Having a swamp cooler is like having a big fan, and then spraying some water into it to cool yourself off.

Me! said...

Move to Alaska. Isn't it cooler there? But then again, it would just be cheaper to kill the stray cats and sell them to the local chinese resturant.

Fat Sparrow said...

Hmmm, I dunno, I actually eat at our local Chinese restaurants. I suppose I could cut out the middle-man and just cook up some sweet-and-sour cat myself.

No, I'll pass on Alaska, thanks. It gets hot and muggy there in the summer, and the mosquito is their state bird. 90% of the child disappearances in Alaska have been attributed to local mosquitos. Even the eagles are scared of them, and the eagles will steal a fish off of a grizzly bear.

Me! said...

I was just pulling stuff from my arse (not literally). I have no idea what Alaska is like except from the show Northern Exposure (which I saw sometime in the 90's when I actually had a life).

Old Knudsen said...

Me!,how do you find time in the day to comment here and talk dirty to me too? heres what you do ya wankers, you get those air fresheners, those 'stick ups' and you stick it up yer wee doggies arse so it's farts smell like a summer meadow, or pine fresh if you like.

Me! said...

Air fresheners make me feel ill. Seriously. The smell is way too overpowering.

Old Buggar: Dirty talk isn't commenting about your small penis. Didn't you know that women can multi-task?

Fat Sparrow said...

Yep, I don't care much for air fresheners, either.