Let's see how we can scare the crap out of Rambler.

Oh, the tale I will tell you....A tale about a tail.

Maybe a week ago, while having dinner with the 4 year old Lil Rambler, our fearless 17 pound Tibetan Spaniel Mr. Bow Wow (name changed to protect his innocence) growled ferociously at our air conditioner located in our dining room area.

As I took a leisurely gander I caught a sight of a tail that made my armpits immediately sweat and Nascar Speed'ed it to the "Holy Sheesh balls....WHAT?THE?HELL?" Lane.

First....Daddy Rambler was NOT home.

Second....Did I mention Daddy Rambler was NOT home?

Third...How in the world did the Lizards that live in the bushes down below make it's way upstairs and inside?  (Boy wishful thinking)

Daddy Rambler makes it home at some point, and the two female folk of the Rambler household tell him in excited elevated tones from the safety of the bedroom (because of course we moved to another area of the house...for Lil Ramblers protection) something with a long tail was seen.

After some consideration Daddy Rambler stated with manly confidence it HAS to be a lizard.  And maybe it was going OUT.  Not coming IN.

He seemed fine with his answer until putting away our pots and pans under the oven and heard a rattle and saw a tail.  Now our seemingly not so worried about lizard turned into a bigger lizard with issues.  So I pretty much imagined a wild iguana roaming in between our walls.  (MASSIVE SHUDDER) because I don't know how to remain calm when it comes to animals.  They are my kryptonite.

Again, only the tail was seen and we convinced ourselves it was the mother of all lizards from downstairs and how do we get rid of it.  So while not entering my kitchen for several days due to the fact I was sure it would jump on my face and eat it, we contemplated.  

Yeah....well flash forward to yester-friggin-day.  My husband opened the dishwasher and saw a tail (AGAIN) disappear and water from the dishwasher starting to spill all over the place.

A hole through the wall behind the dishwasher and into the piping of the dishwasher confirmed our 'lizard' was no lizard.  It was hairy-er than a lizard.  It was maybe a rat/mouse.    (pray it's a mouse, pray it's a mouse, pray it's a mouse.  Sign of the cross....pray it's a mouse, pray it's a mouse).

Good Daddy Rambler did all the moving and cleaning and gagging of what was found when he pulled the dish machine out from it's place.  All he asked from me, when I got home late from work, was to place the traps because...well because it was better to lay them later than sooner??  (REALLY?  when we put the traps down earlier it might ruin the effect of the trap?)

So, I get home.

I tell myself if there was no Daddy Rambler in my life I would have to do all of this by myself.  So I pep talked myself, I laid the trap and waited for something like this to jump out.

 Cause if you know me....you know how active my imagination is. It would never be cute and talk or cook like this one...

So friends.  We lay the trap.  We repair our dishwasher.  We wait.

"Um, honey....could you pleasssseeee get me a drink of water...yeah, in my pink cup....yeah, with a straw...I'll be right here in the bedroom at YOUR computer."

Erm, I'm a big fat liar

Argh. I can't help it.

I keep saying I'm "coming back" and then months go by and all you find in my bloggy space is cobwebs and rickety cupboards.

May. That is the LAST time I was here.

And it's now friggin October.

Le Sigh.

Any that are left....how are you people? (Mammatalk...you totally prompted me to come on. One of the first blogs I really really got into.)

Me?

The new job has taken over any quality of life I had a grasp on and stomped and spit on it.

Le Sigh Deux. (Is that even french...deux, does that even mean 2...Eh, whatever)

I may have been gone, but MAN did I experience SO MANY blog moments that I wanted to share. It's fitting I share something that is truly Rambler style.

I embarrass MYSELF for other peoples pleasure. So those who will gasp in disbelief when they see my name in their recent blog posts lists....here is what I'll leave for you.

(God help me for sharing this story today)

So it's time for my annual you know what? (said in a hushed whisper....the woman thing...the pap smear thing...yeah, THAT.)

It's a new Doctor. I've never met her and I want to make a good impression.

We go through everything I may have concerns about. I talk like I've never had a friend before, and spill my 4 hour movie long life story.

And then it's time to do the thing. I scoot my tosh to the edge. She says relax, I snicker inside and say "Sure, Aren't I?"

I start up the sequel to my first movie and don't hear her correctly when she says..

"Are you ready, I'm going to.......(halfway through some fantasy about being rich and never having to work again apparently is what was on my mind)....Ok?"

"Yah, Yah, Yah...I'm good"

WHOAAAAAA......

Apparently the missing part I agreed to was just her warning that she needed to check (with her finger, mind you) the number 2 area. The poop shoot. The exit only zone for husband.

What the what?

I clenched so hard because I almost....

(wait for it)

(promise...it's so Rambler)

FARTED.

from surprise.

When she said relax I just shook my head. For fear that if I spoke....I'd be 'too relaxed' if you know what I mean.

And then screamed at myself "Oh lord, even though she's scraped the inside of your whoo-ha, please don't embarrass yourself by farting in front of this nice woman doctor. Not on your first date visit."

And no!

Like a woman I held it in.

....Until I got to my car half an hour later.

Geesus, what kind of lady do you think I am?

True friggin story.

Le Sigh...Trois. (I looked it up that time...that's THREE in french )

Awesome right? (said so sarcastically)