February 2nd, 2012
It’s 2:00 in the morning. What the hell am I doing up?
I fell asleep with the kids around 9:00. Passed right the hell out.
When I woke up, it was after 1:00 and the room was pitch black. So I picked up my iPhone and saw a message from the Tech Guru asking “R u asleep?”
I wrote back, “Yes, and so are you,” because he was right next to me in the bed. Har de har har!!
Now how was I supposed to know that when he gets text messages his phone does some weird quacking duck shit or whatever? So 5 seconds after I text him, the room turns into a fucking duck hunt and I’m sitting there frozen like…oops!
That goes on for a few seconds and then…silence.
Nothing happens. Nobody moves. Whew.
Now how was I supposed to know that he gets TWO TEXT ALERTS, just in case he misses the FIRST one? After about another 10 seconds or so the goddamn ducks come back and start that racket again.
You see, me, I don’t get alerted about anything. Including phone calls. My phone is permanently silent. I have to be actually LOOKING AT THE PHONE to know if anyone is calling, texting, or whatever. The only thing I turn on sound for is for the Ebay alerts that tell me I have 5 minutes left on something I’m watching. (Which reminds me, I missed bidding on a dress while I was passed out and I am so pissed, I hope they relist it, it was AWESOME. FUCK.) But, that’s IT. Oh, and of course I turn the phone on for those few rare moments when my children are in someone else’s care. Otherwise, I don’t even do vibrate. As Pudding would put it, I am a fucking stealth ninja, yo!
Anyhow, as this second round of duck season is going on, the huge mound of pillows next to me erupts and a hand reaches forth like something out of a horror movie. It gropes around for the phone, finds it, and pulls it back into the grave of pillows.
A few seconds later, a head pops up and looks at me.
“Are you kidding me?” the Tech Guru says groggily.
“Hee hee,” is my reply.
He looks at me for a second as if wondering, probably for about the millionth time since I’ve known him, if I have completely lost my fucking mind. Then he leans over, gives me a kiss, mutters “You’re crazy,” and goes back to sleep.
He really shouldn’t be wondering if I’ve lost my mind. He’s been with me long enough to know that that happened a loooonnnng time ago. I mean, come on. YOU know this and you don’t even live here. And I think he’s lost his mind too. I mean, really….DUCKS?