This weekend I'm visiting my mom, who lives in Maryland, and my sister and her boyfriend, who live in Arizona and are visiting Mom. I meant to leave this morning after renewing my driver's license, but due to delays at the DMV and delays at home (I forgot about a parking ticket and several other things that had to be dealt with before I left), I didn't get on the road until about 3:30 this afternoon, and finally made it down to Mom's house at 10:30 this evening. I hit traffic over the George Washington Bridge, which isn't unusual but is often slow, and I hit traffic going onto the New Jersey Turnpike (toll booth) and traffic leaving the toll booth (merging and construction). Plus I got tired a couple times. So a 5-hour drive became a 7-hour drive, and on the way I had some nice mundane adventures on the john. (Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you about my bowel movements.)
Really, what it was is that I sat down on the toilet in one of the stalls at the Vince Lombardi Rest Stop (yes, New Jersey names their rest stops--there's one named for Walt Whitman, who probably convulsed in his grave on hearing about it--or, really, given that it's Walt, thought it was fine because life's pretty wonderful)--I sat down on the toilet to mind my business, and after a short while the toilet flushed. "Oh!" I thought, startled. "I hadn't noticed this was an automatic toilet." I adjusted myself a bit for comfort and the toilet flushed again, as if to say "Yup, that's me. Automatic Toilet." I looked over my shoulder at the infrared sensor. No expression. I looked back ahead of me and the toilet flushed again. And again. And again. Then it waited a few minutes and flushed again. And waited. And flushed. And waited. And flushed. All told, it must have drained itself at least 7 or 8 times while I was sitting there--initially an annoying experience, but eventually pretty funny. Now, though, as I think about it, I'm pretty sure the toilet was out to get me.
After I made it to my mom's and had spent ample time hugging people--Auds, who I hadn't seen in a year (:'-(), Santiago (her boyfriend), Grady (mom's close friend and current housemate, and someone who has known Auds and I since we were pre-adolescents), and Mom herself--all of us except Grady were hangin' out in Mom's room and we realized that we had been missing a few of the names of the Seven Dwarves. (Don't ask where that topic came from; I don't remember.) So we remembered a bunch of them. Here a few of the ones we recalled (first, the heightened vocab originals):
Somnolent
Infuriated
Medicinal
Medicated
Prozac
Flaccid (the Dwarf who can't get it up)
Viagra
Vicodin
Froggy (an inside joke referring to a dance Auds & Santiago made up called Froggy on the Moon, which is really quite hilarious if you're me or Audrey or Santiago or Mom or Dad or probably Virginia or Bret, but outside of that group may just seem weird)
Schleppy
Schmo
And on that note, my friends, I am going to write my love a note to tell her I arrived safely and then I am going to bed.
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2 comments:
You have a new drwarves label, you sooo need to write more posts about dwarves!!!
Hihihih I really like the adenture with the toilet, it was very funny :D
Yoy forgot Grumpy or Grouchy or both in the list of dwarves, but apart from that yes yes that's as I remember them. Mind you how come there are more then seven? Did they breed?? What is male to male dwarf reproduction like?
Now you know how I feel every time I go to a public restroom that was designed by a tall male! (The sensors are often high enough that they go off if I lean forward or duck my head a little.)
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