RRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPPP

I wanted to post this short little story as my Facebook status, but decided that might not be the appropriate venue. Instead, I decided to expand the story post just the link on Facebook, thereby covering my bases.

This morning, Mark stood up from the desk chair in our kitchen/office area and abruptly grabbed is left butt cheek.

"F&^#."

He had a GIANT rip in his pants. Like, huge. Big enough for me to put my hand in up to my elbow. True story. I did it (not while he was wearing them. That would've been weird... and difficult).

"Well, I guess you won't be wearing those pants today."

I start thinking about when that might have happened. And how funny it would have been if he had been walking around, oh, say, Target with pretty much his entire butt cheek (albeit covered in man-underpants) showing.

"When do you think that happened?" I ask.

"I do think I felt a ripping sensation just now."

"Oh, good." Shoot.

National Coffee Day!

Me: "It's National Coffee Day. I think Einsteins is running a deal on coffee today."

Mark: "I actually didn't eat that much and I'm a little hungry."

Me: "Well, then, go to Einstein and get us something to eat!"

Mark, putting words in my mouth: "Go get me a f&*@ing bagel."

Me: "Yep."

Mark: "I'm going to get the weirdest combination of bagel and shmear ever for you."

Me: "What will you get? Now I'm curious."

Mark: "I don't know... pumpernickel and jalapeno..."

Me: "Ugh... wait, no, I don't think that would be that bad."

I start thinking about eating bagels.

Me: "My mouth is watering."

Mark: "Yuck."

Parenting & Sharing

I feel compelling to say that we were joking. Here it goes:

"Should we get Tegan and make her a bottle?"

"Yes," Mark says. We are tired and want to go to bed.

I go into the kitchen and start running water. "I'll make it. Do you want to feed her or should I?"

Mark says, "Oh, you'll make the food but you don't want to feed the children?"

"Yes," I say. "That's right."

"Because then you'd have to touch them," he continues.

"Tell you what," I say. "When Tegan turns 9 months old, then we'll be even and we can start sharing parenting responsibilities again."

"Oh," Mark says, "This is about you having to carry the baby?"

"Yes," I say, mixing up the bottle. "I spent 9 months making her. Now you can nurture her for 9 months and then we'll be even. At her 9 month birthday we'll be back at ground zero."

I screw the top on the bottle.

Mark heads out of the kitchen to go get Tegan. "I'm glad our marriage is grounded on the foundation of making sure we are even."

Woodpecker

So. Starting last summer, I noticed the occasional tapping noise on our house. Actually, Zelda noticed it at first. The noise came from the corner where the television sits. Zelda would hear it and start going nuts. At first I couldn't figure out what the hell was going on. Then, one day I went out on the deck to investigate the sound and discovered a woodpecker pecking on the side of our house. As soon as I stepped out onto the deck it flew away. I had to go out a number of times last summer to scare the damn thing off. Then winter hit and the woodpecker must have migrated because the tapping stopped.

Well, it's back.

And it's ballsy.

Instead of flying off when I go out on the deck, it's been hanging around longer forcing me to jump up and down and yell at it (I have no idea how my neighbors interpret my behavior). Last week I had to throw water at it to get it to fly away. A few days ago it landed on the side of the house right outside our front door...

... as if it's taunting me.

Things came to a head two days ago...

I was in the living room when I heard the tapping. It sounded a little quieter than before so I thought maybe it was pecking the house further away from the deck. A challenge, if you will.

I open the door to the deck and stepped out.

The woodpecker was NOT on the side of the house.

I cocked my head, listening.

Tap-tap-tap-tap.

Sounded like the bird was tapping on one of the legs of the deck. I guessed it was hanging on to the support post a few feet below the edge of the deck railing.

I crept slowly and quietly toward the sound. I wanted to SEE the woodpecker trying to destroy my deck (Why? I don't know. It's not like I could take the stupid woodpecker to court.)

I moved carefully, fully expecting the bird to fly off well before I could glimpse it.

But the tapping continued.

I reached the deck railing and tapping continued.

I still can't decide if I was ninja-quiet or if the woodpecker just didn't give a damn that I was approaching.

I slowly and carefully peered over the railing of the deck...

AND THERE WAS THE WOODPECKER!!!!

RIGHT ON THE FREAKING RAILING!!!!

I screamed. I'm not even ashamed of it. I swear to you I could see the gleam in that little bastard's eyes.

The woodpecker launched itself backward off the deck and flapped away.

I could feel the air displaced by its wings.

"Holy Shit."

I took a breath.

"I just had a face-to-face confrontation with a woodpecker."

Yep. I was talking to myself. Don't care. Not embarrassed.

I laughed. Felt alive. REALLY wanted to tell someone about it. So now I am.