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My Bad Morning is Funny in Retrospect

Today I’d like to share some humor with you. Well, it wasn’t funny as it was happening, but I can laugh about it now. I’m going to tell you about my morning. This is one of those cases where the cards were stacked against me, and I am grateful I didn’t need to leave my house. I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.

I should preface this story by mentioning that we had an incredibly loud thunderstorm blow through our area in the wee hours of the morning. I think it started around 1:00 a.m., and I’m not sure what time it finally moved on. The storm, coupled with the sinus headache I’ve had for a few days, meant I didn’t sleep well.

My dog, Taco, woke me up early with his “I need to go outside” bark. Because I didn’t want my husband who worked until 2:00 a.m. to wake up, I rolled out of bed and slipped into my bathrobe.

Bleary-eyed, I stumbled into my living area to let my dog out. Still half asleep, I didn’t bother to put on shoes or turn on the lights. Nearly to the back door, I stepped in a cold, wet puddle of pee and slid across the floor like a drunk ice skater.

I didn’t want to spread the ickiness stuck to the bottom of my foot, so I hopped to the guest bathroom on my dry foot and for a towel. Then I let Taco out to the fenced-in back yard to do his morning business.

I reached up to the top of my fridge where I keep my cleaners and grabbed my antibacterial all-purpose cleaner. That brand new refill bottle slipped through my fingers, bounced off my stove, and hit the floor at the perfect angle for the lid to shatter. I looked on in horror for a split second as half the bottle gushed onto my kitchen floor.

I picked up the bottle and set it upright in the sink. I later poured what was left into the empty spray bottle I’d purchased it to fill. Grabbing my mop, I went to work cleaning up the green liquid. There was enough spilled to mop my entire kitchen, laundry area, and living room.

By this point, Taco was ready to come inside, and I was in desperate need of a shower. I settled my dog in his special place and crept back through the bedroom to the master bathroom for my much deserved shower.

Feeling much better with all foreign substances washed off, I got dressed and quietly made me way through the bedroom where my dear husband was trying to sleep. Surely, my excitement was over. Right?

I decided to toast one of the two bagels I had left in the house. The bagel was pre-sliced, but one half was much bigger than the other. My toaster, being on its last leg, was stubborn. It didn’t like the large half, which I had to persuade into place. It took its time with my breakfast, and barely browned it for my trouble.

Once my bagel popped up, I slathered both halves with butter and sprinkled some cinnamon on top. It smelled so good, and my stomach growled loudly in anticipation. I turned from the counter, and the large half of my bagel flew off my plate, sailed through the air, and landed butter side down on my freshly mopped floor.

I was torn between crying and swearing, but I did neither. I took a deep breath and popped my last bagel in the toaster. I ate the small half of my first bagel while my dog enjoyed the other half from the floor.

I didn’t move from my spot in front of the counter as I awaited the toaster to do its thing, which is why the next part is perplexing. I looked down and noticed that I’d somehow cut my finger. No idea how that happened, I washed my hands again and cleaned my little wound with some peroxide.

I was finally able to sit down and eat a full bagel with butter and cinnamon. I had worked hard for that bagel, and it was quite tasty. Things simmered down as the morning wore on, and I was doing laundry when my husband got up to start his day. I poked my head in the kitchen when I heard him rummaging around and asked him for what he was searching.

“I want a bagel,” he said. “Don’t we have a couple left?”

I handed him the loaf of bread and told him about my morning. When he asked me when I planned to go to the grocery store again, I told him it wouldn’t be today. I wouldn’t even walk out to my mailbox. With my luck, I’d get run over by the FedEx truck.

He smiled at me and politely requested I add bagels to the grocery list. Then he told me how nice the floor looked. I really love that man.

As I reflect on everything, I can’t help but laugh. My husband, however, didn’t even let a chuckle escape. Thank you for reading Ozarks Maven! If you’ve enjoyed my little seeds of wisdom and joy, please subscribe to Ozarks Maven, Like Ozarks Maven on Facebook, or follow me on Twitter @OzarksMaven.

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