Hey! You know how I was sick as a dog yesterday? And my sweet baboo did not stay home to take care of me? Well, I can top that!
This morning, I sat up on the edge of the bed for a moment to let the room stop spinning. Then I stood up. Grabbed my bubba cup of water off the nightstand. Steadied myself. And rounded the end of the bed on my way to the bathroom.
That was a signal for Farmer H to spring from the bed like that guy in his nightcap who heard such a clatter. He dashed INTO THE BATHROOM right ahead of me! All I saw were his tighty whities fading into shadow. Seriously? That's how you're gonna do a sickly woman, Farmer H? I could not put up with this affront.
"I can't believe you just ran into the bathroom ahead of me!"
"Well, I have to pee."
"So do I. And I was already on my way there. I always go in there as soon as I get up."
"FINE! I'll go in the other one!"
Let the record show that the other one is at the other end of the house. Not exactly a distance Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, recovering from a day of fever and chills, wants to hike upon arising. I can't believe the speed with which Farmer H unrolled himself from that burrito of a quilt, whipped off his breather, hit the off switch, and hopped out of bed. He should be coaching Olympic sprinters on how to come out of the starting blocks.
I came out of the bathroom, in the murky morning light of 7:30 a.m., and entered the living room, turning on the morning news as I am wont to do upon arising. And from the couch arose such a clatter that I couldn't help but shout, "WHAT IS THE MATTER with you?" Because, you see, Farmer H had been laying on the long couch, his head covered by the brown blanket we keep on the couch back, his fat feet sticking out. He had to have been in that position all of five minutes or less, what with his bathroom excursion.
"I CAN'T SLEEP. I can't believe you turned on that TV."
"Well, this IS the living room. And I generally turn on the news when I get up. It's 7:30. Go back to bed if you want to sleep."
"I can't sleep in there. All you did was come in and use that bathroom, when you could have used the other one last night."
"You are the one who slept through a 20-year-old and a 16-year-old sawing a TV cabinet to bits in the next room. How was I supposed to know that my mere presence passing through would wake you?"
Farmer H defies logic. I defy Farmer H.