D.C. = Domestic Circus

After many weeks of traveling on the road and living out of a car, I had grown accustomed to having just the bare necessities (which includes my laptop of course). Sleeping on a therm-a-rest in a tent was the norm and upgrading to a motel room with hot showers and a door with a lock was considered a luxury. But now that I'm back in DC at my sister's house, I've been feeling overwhelmed by well, just about everything here.

First, there is so much stuff in this house. Not only do we have every thing you can possibly think of, there are at least twenty of each. It appears as though a neighborhood of houses got jammed together into one and then subsequently threw up on itself. And one fraction of it all is my own. Over the past three years I have accumulated my own stash of junk in the basement, which to my surprise, is a lot. Notebooks, CDs, linens, photos, clothes, books, magazines, and even four rolls of unused toilet paper all sitting in the corner of the storage room collecting dust and cricket poop. I have no idea what to do with it all except to start using the TP.

Second, DC is a sauna. The humidity is particularly unpleasant now after having lived in a dry climate for the past year and a half. Having grown soft, I'd break out in sweat just blinking. I wore jeans one day because I had no other clean laundry and it felt like wearing a wet suit in an oven.

Third, no one has missed me more and welcomed me back to DC more fondly than the Asian tiger mosquitoes. They descend upon you quietly and feed off you inconspicuously until finally you start to itch. By then, the welt on your skin has already swelled to the size of Texas and you can see it start to engulf the remainder of your limb. This act of autophagy is particularly attractive when it occurs on your face.

Fourth, I'm not used to a life of domesticity and routine. A typical day around here involves waking up, taking young child to school, going to work, picking up same child from school, returning home, eating dinner, watching TV, and going to sleep. Rinse and repeat. Why not just beat me senseless with a rolling pin now and get it over with?

Lastly, there is no such thing as a free lunch. Within hours of my arrival, I was enlisted as softball league fill-in player, babysitter, and cleaning lady. Whenever I'm asked to "watch" a softball game, I always end up forced to play. I am an Ultimate player; I do not interact with spherical objects. There's nothing more nerve wracking than when you're trying to bat with thirty pairs of eyes boring holes through your head, half of them silently willing you to miss and the other half willing you not to be the weakest link on the team. And when you actually hit the ball, it's a frantic, panicked sprint to first base. And if you happen to maul the first baseman on the way there, well, that's just part of the game.

Next, does it not strike you, as it did me, that to have a once a year major house cleaning scheduled within a week of my return is more than just mere coincidence?

And just this week, I had one of the more thrilling experiences of my babysitting career when my attempt to put my niece Ella to bed was temporarily thwarted. Near the end of the evening, I tried to lure Ella into her parents' bedroom for some storytelling and reading, but being a precocious five year old whose mental acuity is superior to my own, she saw right through my scheme.

Me: "C'mon, let's go snuggle up and read some books."
Ella: "How about we hang out in a different room away from a bed?"
Me: "But that's not any fun! Oh hey, I haven't seen Mommy and Daddy's room in a really long time! Let's go look at it!" (Ella sleeps with her parents in their bed)
Ella: "I know! Let's go to MY room instead!"
Me: "Why don't we pick out a book and go read it in bed!"
Ella: "I want to read a book to you in my room with all the lights on!"

Sensing that I wasn't going to make any progress, I walked to the master bedroom in hopes of Ella following me. As soon as I walked through the door, I was immediately hit with a god awful stench.

Me: "Oh... my... GOD! What is that SMELL?? Ella, do you SMELL THAT?!"

It was dark and I only had the hallway light to guide me into the front part of the room. I walked to the foot of the bed, gingerly picked up a couple of shirts, and sniffed them. They were not the culprits. Ella walked in behind me and I eyed her suspiciously.

Me: "Ella, do you smell POOP? Ella, did YOU just POOP?!"
Ella: "I did NOT poop!"
Me: "Do you not smell this atrocity???"
Ella: "I don't smell-- Oh, yeah, what is that?"

She walked further into the room to inspect the cause of the stink. As I turned my back to look for the light switch, Ella burst into tears.

Me: "What's wrong!"
Ella: "I... I... just stepped in cat poop! YAAAAAGHHHHH!!!"
Me: "What! Hold on! Don't move!!!"

I turned on the light and lo, and behold, Ella had planted her right foot into a big pile of wet cat turd on the rug. It smeared all over the bottom of her foot and before she could put her foot back down on the floor, I picked her up and ran her into the bathroom. She was hysterical and shrieking with disgust.

Ella: "Eeeeeeek!! Cat poop! Aaaugghhhh! SO GROSS! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!! Yaaaugggghhh!! Get it off! Get it off! GET IT OOOOFFFFFFF!!!!!"

After cleaning her foot and calming her down, I placed Ella on the bed. And while she distracted herself with a book, I inspected the entire room for more cat poop. The cat had taken two dumps on the rug. Two mushy, bloody piles of turd. What on God's earth could he have possibly eaten that day to produce such a monstrosity of an excrement?

I will spare you the details of the clean up. To finish the story, Ella fought sleep as hard as she could but what finally did her in was when I started telling her everything I had done in the past few months on my travels (the same story I will be telling you on this blog). Within five minutes, her eyelids began to flutter. I stopped talking and waited. She jerked her head, turned to me, and said, "Just because my eyes are closed doesn't mean I'm asleep."

So I continued my story and within another minute, she was out cold.