After watching Man vs. Wild with Will Ferrell last night,
Mr. Nielson tucked me into bed.
It was nice to laugh.
It was nice to have my pain under control, too.
I know just when I need my pain meds and when I stay on top of it
I am so much happier.
My happiness turned to disgust when I caught a whiff of something else.
It was Jimmy!
He smelled horrible.
The worse part was that he was asleep in front of our floor box fan
(whom we call "the mayor") which blew directly to our bed.
I'd estimate about every 3 minutes I would hear this
It was unmistakably a dog toot.
Immediately after that dreaded sound, the fan would
carry the stench directly to our bed
where I would gasp and then almost pass out.
Mr. Nielson had long since fallen asleep and was not affected.
The smell lasted far too long and was preventing me from falling asleep.
When I couldn't take it any longer I nudged Mr. Nielson
and asked (begged) him to please take Jimmy outside.
Since I was strapped to about 40 different apparatuses for my hands
and a mask over my face, getting out of bed for me really is not really an option.
Mr. Nielson mumbled and pulled himself out of bed to let Jimmy out.
This is where the story gets really good.
And by good, I don't mean good, I mean really bad.
After finally coaxing Jimmy out of the room, he stepped on a stinky diaper
that Jimmy had dug out of the garbage and tore all over the kitchen rug.
(Who put a stinky diaper in the inside kitchen anyway???
I can get to the bottom of that tomorrow.)
Mr. Nielson was not happy about having poop on his feet
so in his madness he kicked Jimmy outside slamming the back door behind him.
After he cleaned up his feet, he came back to bed.
I could tell he was in a pretty bad mood, and understandably so.
I pretended I was asleep.
For the next 45 minutes, while Jimmy was being punished outside,
he barked and barked as loud as he could.
I was dying. I looked over at Christian who was again peaceful sleeping
and woke him up. I had to.
"Christian?" I calmly said, "Jimmy is barking really loud."
After about twenty minutes of persuading Mr. Nielson to bring Jimmy back
inside and in a frustrating rage he pushed the covers off
and huffed out of our cozy bed. I knew he wasn't mad at me, just the situation.
He got up only to discover a little blob of
poop on the rug that he hadn't seen the first time he cleaned the diaper mess.
"What the-...no no, no!" I heard him say.
With Jimmy barking outside at 1:30 in the morning, poop (still) on the rug,
he went into the bathroom for cleaning supplies then
like a movie, tripped on the bathroom stool.
Mr. Nielson picked up the stool and threw it into the laundry room.
I proceeded to hear Mr. Nielson spray, scrub,
and then vacuum all while Jimmy barked outside
and I pretended I was asleep.
I love my Mr. Nielson!