Nightmare On Blood Street

wp-1485022846871.png

Do you like scary stories? I’m not talking about the stories about zombies and ghosts. I’m talking about true crime, real things happening to real people. If so, then keep reading. If not, keep reading anyway.

It was a dark and stormy night, really it was! The sound of the rain hitting the pitch of the roof lulled me to sleep, along with a good dose of Ambien. I knew that I was not going to sleep well without the assistance of my trusty zolpidem, as there were too many things flapping about in my cluttered mind. But alas, sleep overtook me. I was curled around my husband drinking in the comfort that his warm hairy body provides. Like clockwork I was awoken by one of his many obnoxious and intrusive farts. The anger that filled me yet again last night was all-consuming. I just want undisturbed sleep! I need it bad, baby! I need it like a tweaker needs to bite your nose off.

The next thing that I remember is tiptoeing down the long and narrow hallway to the bathroom that we share with our adorable and annoying children. My worst fear at this point is that one of them would wake up and find me washing the sticky blood off of my hands. As I became aware of the cold sweat covering my body I couldn’t help but think to myself “Why is this happening to me again? I can’t keep doing this! Enough is enough!”.

If you think that I am about to confess to you that sleep deprivation caused me to harm my husband you would be wrong. Good guess though! No, my husband, we’ll call him Jack, did in fact wake me up with his arrogant and taunting flatulence. His farts really are arrogant and they sound like they are abrasively saying “Waaahh! I’m here! I am polluting your life!”. After I was awoken yet again I felt the all too familiar wet and sticky feeling trickling into my butt crack. Aunt Blood and her minions were there to destroy my week.

In my zolpidem haze I sat on the toilet and felt around in the drawer next to me for my loyal Diva Cup. Not only did I leave the light off, but I also didn’t think to shut the door. Why bother though, really? I am a mom living in a great house with ONE bathroom. We practically poop on each other’s laps when fighting for the bathroom. And everyone always has the best excuses for why they deserve to use the throne first. “You are ALWAYS pooping! It’s my turn! I’m younger so I should get to go first. I’m older so I should get to go first. I had chili for lunch and there’s no stopping it so get out of my way”. You would think that at three in the morning I would have the bathroom all to myself. As I began the Diva Cup installation into my lady cave I could hear the stirring of Thing 2 in his bed. He never fully wakes up, instead just slurs his speech, falls against the walls, and frantically looks for a place to evacuate his bladder. I think my seven year old might be a drunk. Nevertheless, installation went off without a hitch, but my hands were covered in blood and had to be scrubbed clean. I stood there at the sink with my pants around my ankles frantically washing off the fluid that could have been a comforting blanket to a potential embryo. I just wantย some shred of dignity, is that too much to ask? I began hearing pitter-patter….thump, pitter-patter slide, pitter-patter pitter-patter. Thing 2’s presence was imminent. I dried my hands and pulled up my pants just in time to preserve a shred of decency. I was able to slip back into my cozy bed (no sheets were harmed in the bloodbath, thankfully) and drift back off to sleep for the rest of the night. And Jack, my main fart, is still alive.

In conclusion, I love my Diva Cup. This is an unbiased review as they do not know who I am or what I am writing about. My uterus is a huge jerk and produces copious amounts of blood each month. The Diva Cup is large enough to give me some peace of mind. It does leak if full or not placed in correctly. I have saved so much money from not having to buy tampons. I do still use pads because that is just necessary with such a heavy period. Later on I will give a more detailed review if requested. For now I am going to go eat some icecream for breakfast and then take a nap. Haha! Right! I’m going to go clean up any blood spatter that was left behind and keep my children from killing themselves.

 

 

Advertisements

12 thoughts on “Nightmare On Blood Street

  1. For once at least there was a benefit to your husband’s sleep-shattering farts. It woke you up before Aunt Blood could do serious damage to the sheets.
    Then again it sounds like your husband’s flatulence is more likely than anything to do damage to the sheets.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s