So...yesterday, Central Europe had its first large-scale hurricane. Hooray. Not. But before I rant about Global Warming and its moodswinging bullshit yet again, something different.
January 16th, 1.44 a.m.
Cell Phone: *rinng*?
Teshik: *snooore*.
Cell Phone:*rinnnnnng*!
Teshik: Whut? Huh?
Cell Phone: *RINNNG*!!!
Teshik: Oh, fuck off and die. (gets out of bed, grabs the phone) Who, and what!
F: Can you come over? Like, real quick?
Teshik: Not again. When will those twins get born? Mid-February?
(side-note: S had more or less been in labour since end of November, and I emergency-babysat for Jay for no less than six times since then.)
F: Today. S's water just broke.
Teshik: Oh goddamn fucking finally. (pause) Gimme twenty minutes.
---
Shortly after 2 a.m., I drive into the suburb F and S live in, and almost hit a black-white cat. AGAIN, because that damn bastard seems to be suicidal, seeing as I almost run over it twice before. I swear, it's the same damn cat. Oh well. Three gone, six lives to go before I have to scrape it off my tires, I guess. F is waiting at the parking lot, S already in the car.
Teshik: You won't believe it! That same cat of last week...
F: Here're the keys, gotta go, see ya!
He then left a dust trail in the direction of the hospital, so he won't have a giant mess in his car. And I had a night to kill. Question: How?
-Television.
Vox Channel. Some breast implants try to seduce me. They fail.
"Ohh, I NEED a REALLY strong GUY to SATISFY me! CALL!!! Oh! Nine-HUNDRED!!! Sex-sex-FIVE, sex-sex-FIVE!"
The support system of the implants then proceeds to lick the telephone receiver with her tongue. Ick. And that is supposed to arouse me? Because it only reminds me of that receptionist chick in Dead Like Me, spreading her boogers around.
-Sleeping on the sofa.
That sofa has seen the beginning of the nineties, and is the oldest furniture in S's possession. Sitting on it is fine, but lying in it? Well, can you lie comfortably on something that has the profile of a W ? The only possibility of getting sleep is when you crouch yourself into one of the two V's in a fetal position and pray none of the springs decides to jump out and rip apart your face. Tony the Tiger says "Grrrrreat!"
-Sleeping in S and F's bed.
Errr, inappropriate much? Plus, EWWW. Which part of "her water broke" are you not getting? EWW.
-Television again.
Someone of the programming department of the Phoenix Channel is a sick twisted bastard. Because he decided 4 a.m. is the best time to show all those people watching, who are probably insomniac in the first place, a documentary of the Naked Mole Rat. Ensuring no one who sees this will want to go to sleep again, ever.
Four hours later, the inevitable happened: Jay woke. And: Jay had successfully digested his dinner. I usually don't change diapers during babysitting safe for emergencies. It's kind of a silent treaty between all participants. But Daddy wasn't here, Jay had a stinker, so I guess the category "emergency" was reached. By the way, I am so getting a Nanny once I start procreating.
Teshik: Oookay. This is the part we both hate, because you have icky doo-doo in your diapers, and I have to be the one cleaning it up.
Jay: Gah!
Teshik: Yes. "Gah" puts it quite nicely. Look, can we please skip the part this time where you start peeing as soon as I take the diaper off?
Jay: Dee-dl-dee-dl-dee-dlllll!
Teshik: I'll take that as a "maybe".
Eight seconds later.
Teshik: Oh, fucking son of a bitch!
Ten minutes later. Teshik and Jay rummage through the laundry basket. Jay is now naked except for a fresh new diaper.
Teshik: Know what? If Mommy and Daddy don't start potty-training you very soon, I will. Because this? Is ridiculous. I mean, peeing over one babybody? An accident. Peeing apparently over all of them? Is exhibiting some verrrry strange behaviour, young man.
Jay: De-De!
Teshik: Admit it. "I can't talk yet" is just your excuse for not seeing a shrink about your territory marking.
But I did find some non-peed clothes in the end, and the plans B, C, and D - "dressing him in Daddy's clothes", "ramping up the heating to eleven and keep him nekkid", and "get him into the pee-clothes, swipe the wonder tree from my car, decorate Jay with it, and hope no one notices what a horrible person I am" - were thankfully discarded.
---
At around half past ten, F returned home.
F: Hey. How's it going?
Teshik: You really really have to do laundry. But we're fine. How's S ?
F: The lovely mother was blissfully unconscious as I left her. She really likes the nurse with the painkillers now. ... Laundry? No. He didn't.
Teshik: Oh yes he did.
F: God. It's his latest tic. Did he even have underwear left?
Teshik: Err...I had to improvise. You have a big Jay-sized hole in your favourite white sweater now.
F: What?
Teshik: Just kidding.
F: Don't do this to me. Not after this night. Have you any idea when I got up today?
Teshik: Approximately five minutes before me.
F: Oh yeah. ...
Teshik: ...
F: ... What fucking cat?
---
Oh well. S and F are now the loving parents of Jay and his two baby boy brothers.
Happy Birthday, M and D. Welcome to the insane asylum called Earth.
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1 comment:
Oh
my
god!
I sooooooo fucking love yar way of writing.. I so can imagine it. And the fun part (yeh! yeh! I correct) the fun part for me is, I am german as well and I love reading your blog items in english - guess I'd even learn hindoo for reading your posts!
If I wasn't that cool, I'd grab my pompons on the spot and learn how to spell T-E-S-H-I-K in "air traffic controller"-slang!
But I am cool! Just as cool as it's it will get tonight when it will fi-nal-ly snow, arcording to the spackos at wetter.de *hehe*
So keep up the good work and no, don't even think about writing in hindoo, crap, I don't have time to learn this, maybe later, so in like 60 years when I'm eighty - or unemployed, so yeh! Ok! Gimme frigging 3 years!
greetz OLAF
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