So there I was.
Sound asleep in my bed (where everyone should be at that hour). I don’t generally dream at night so I have no cool dreams to share (my sleep cycles are different because of my narcolepsy, hence the lack of dreaming going on), but I was definitely out cold when…
Suddenly, from out of no where I was hearing voices. Well, one voice to be exact. I couldn’t tell you whose voice it was because like I already mentioned…I WAS SLEEPING!! What I hate most about those middle of the night voice encounters is that they always seem to happen on my side of the bed. Why can’t the voices find their way to the other side of the bed where Bruce sleeps? We all know I’m just going to wake him up anyway so he can deal with it while I roll back over and go to sleep. I do not function well in sleep wakening circumstances; however, these voices always find me (no matter where we live). Is this place haunted?
Possibly. I do have some strange things that happen but that’s not what this was. Nope, this was definitely too real to be a haunting.
Oh so unwillingly I managed to force one eye open. I couldn’t make it focus, but I could make it open. Part of the way anyway. It was Trey and he was in my face…literally, he was that close. Like he knew I couldn’t see in the dark or something.
With his rancid “I’ve been asleep for a long time” breath he whispers “mom, I don’t feel good.” In my mind I was thinking “really? You woke me up to tell me that” but what I said was “ok honey, why don’t you just go in the bathroom then.” At this point I was all set to fluff my pillow back up and saw some more logs. What really happened was that Trey decided to use the bathroom in my room. Without closing the door.
So now, here I am laying in my bed about 230 in the morning and it is pitch black. When suddenly, the room is illuminated in one mass dark eliminating exodus flood of light. My eyes start watering from the pain of trying to see what on earth Trey was doing.
The fan. Now he turns on the fan. Not only is it lit up like someone blew up an ammunition stockpile in here, but now it’s like I’m in a whirring wind tunnel too. And the grunting…yep, apparently his stomach is bothering him.
Bruce is sound asleep.
I did the only thing I knew how to do at that moment. I woke him up and went back to sleep. Moments later Trey is screaming for me. “MOM. MOM!” I don’t see Bruce anymore. Darn it. Now I have to get up. Much to my surprise, rather, much to my disgust Trey has puked all over my bathroom floor….twice. I got that he can’t puke in the toilet when he’s sitting on it, but the garbage can was so close his puke could have landed in it without even bending over. The floor?! Ugh. So I did the only thing I knew how to do at that moment. I called for Bruce.
He came and cleaned it all up. But while they are in the bathroom cleaning all that up I got the overwhelming whiff of poop. Not just, oops someone farted. No, this was more like a “whoa who just pooped in their pants” kind of smell. One that made the eyes water and the gag reflex think about gagging. It was bad.
Whatever. Trey’s busy violating my bathroom so it was only par for the course I guess. Back to bed we all went. When Trey was done washing his hands and brushing his teeth we sent him back to bed too.
Agh, my super comfortable pillow we meet again!
“MOM!” “MOM!” no, I am not hearing this. I refuse to acknowledge him again. “MOM TROOPER POOPED IN MY ROOM!” Awe man. I can’t ignore that and now the smell is identified. I knew there was no way Trey could have produced that hideous scent.
So here’s the deal. Every once in a while Trooper has a day or two where he has really loose stool. So loose in fact that it’s like warm chocolate pudding oozing out of his dernier. Only stinkier than warm chocolate pudding. He’s been fine the last week so this was a total shocker; and how ironic that he crapped in Trey’s room while Trey was tearing up my bathroom…
I told Trey to get some of his blankets and go to bed on the couch. Meanwhile, Bruce is up cleaning up Trooper’s mess and I walk down the hall to get the carpet shampooer out of the closet. While getting it out of the closet I opened the door and let Trooper out. This was fresh, so why not give him a chance to go outside? I’ve done this a million times before and every other time he is back at the door in two minutes.
Not this time.
I left the door open and the carpets were shampooed. Still no Trooper. Shampooer cleaned. No Trooper. Where is that dog?!
About five and a half hours later Trooper came back; in Bruce’s Island Assault Vehicle, but he was back. He’s dirty, smelly, and wicked tired.
You know, it was just yesterday I thought about getting a tie-out rope so that we wouldn’t have to take him out on a leash all the time (no fence). I also mentioned he hadn’t had an upset stomach in a while yesterday too…