Some days the Terminix guy unexpectedly comes to my house at 10 a.m.
And when that happens — especially when that happens on the Monday following a long out-of-town Easter weekend — he may walk right into this:
1. A dirty diaper balled up. On the couch.
2. The woman of the house is wearing pink pajama pants with green tennis rackets on them, a faded green tank top with the word “Bachelorette” spelled out in glitter, and (over the tank) a Lilith Fair 1998 T-shirt which she hastily put on in the hopes he wouldn’t notice she was bra-less.
3. A huge mound of clothes that looks like they were thrown from the top of the stairs. (They were.)
4. Several rolls of toilet paper that looks like they were thrown from the top of the stairs. (They were.)
Me: What part of the house do you need to check?
5. A dog who is barking outside while you are inside, and then is forced inside when you are outside because what he really wants to do is KILL YOU.
6. A baby who follows you from room to room, pushing his dump truck and telling you it’s a truck. And if you then try to talk to him like he’s a person, he will pause and then say, “Truck.”
7. And then the phone may ring.
8. And then you may walk through the bathroom and notice my bra is in the sink and a box of tampons is on the counter.
9. And there are 10 pairs of boxers in a pile in the bedroom.
10. And then when you need the woman of the house to sign your little electronic keyboard thingy, and she has to put her child down, he may SCREAM HIS HEAD OFF.
And this may be when he says, “Did you remember we were coming today?”
And then I may laugh and say, “Uhhh…no.”