Steve crept back into the darkened bedroom to give a good-bye kiss to me and Avelyn.  As he turned to leave he mentioned, "Rolo barfed all over the stairs.  I skimmed off the chunky top layer but you’ll have to use the steam cleaner on it pronto before the stain sets.  Also, I am running late so you’ll have to take out the eight bags of stinky garbage.  ‘Kay bye."

Now if that isn’t the way to start a day I don’t know what is.

I tried to sneak out of bed without waking Avelyn so I would have time to scurry around the house empyting the garbages and sprint to the curb to drop off the heavy, diaper genie poopie sausage link bags.  Garbage taken out?  Check.  Avelyn was still sleeping, but lightly, so I ran downstairs and dug out the steam cleaner and tried my best to remember how to assemble it.  Cords, hose, cleaner, what the heck?  I piece* it together and turn the beast on.  It is loud.  Avelyn is rudely awoken.  She begins to cry.  I keep on steam cleaning but something is wrong and there is foamy cleaner and water squirting out of random parts of the hose, soaking my shirt and the wall.  I try to go as fast as I can and do a half-cheeked job of sopping up the barf stain then run back upstairs to retrieve my shrieking child.

Though the day got off to a rough start it did improve.  I spent the morning at Angella’s house and we had a nice visit.  When I came home I was greeted with a fresh pile of Rolo barf.  When Steve got home for lunch I gave him the same speech he gave me this morning, "I scraped off the chunky top layer.  Now YOU deal with it."

Thanks, Rolo, for doing your part to encourage poetic justice.

But from now on, please barf on tiled surfaces.  

Thanks. 

 *I know I am jumping around with my verb tenses…past, present, past, but I don’t care right now.