Yesterday I shared some of the things (my grand kids and my make up) I am thankful for. Today is my weekly Bitch and Moan section. Maybe I am doing it backwards. Maybe I should gripe, then count my blessings. Whatever.
Because I am so anal and suffer with OCD (heh), I will do this gripe session using the 5 senses. I was tagged long ago by Tx Poppet to confess some habits, and she did hers all organized and cute using the senses. So instead, I will leave the confessing to Georgie and just steal the 5 sense idea. This week we will focus on the hearing. The things that I heard this week.
1. The weiner-licking sounds of the damn dogs.
Dear Andy and Gus,
Please stop licking yourselves and each other. I can't take it. Okay, maybe it's not always your weiner you are licking. Sometimes it is your feet and sometimes it's the floor where you are laying. But 99% of the time it's your freakin' weiner. The 5 minute licking session that causes me to stomp my feet and shout "QUIT!", or knock you with my foot, (because that is usually where you are lying. Right.On.My.Feet.) or clap my hands loudly to scare you into stopping is apparently not working. I get the same glance from you every time. Then you momentarily stop and re-taste with smacks so unbelievably irritating that I have the TV up to 27 on volume just to drown you out. The esophageal damage done because the vomit that rises when said sounds are heard are irreversible. If looks could kill, you, dear dogs, would be dead.
2. The never- ending beep that my way-too-expensive dishwasher does when it is done with it's cycle.
Dear Bosch Stainless Steel Self-proclaimed Champion of all dishwashers,
Enough. You wash and supposedly sanitize my dishes. Dishes. Objects that, unlike clothing that your friend LG front loading washer and dryer care for, DON"T wrinkle and require ironing. Objects that don't need to be removed immediately from your clutches. Maybe you want them out. Maybe you want me to get off the computer and empty you and refill you to make you feel whole. Maybe you love the liquid soap that is slid into your container. I don't know. I am asking you to stop with the notification beep. I pisses me off to have to stop what I am doing to open and shut you to make the incessant beeping quiet. I apologize if I have roughly slammed you on more than one occasion because I was miffed. I am just asking for a simple cease and desisting of the jaw-torking sound. I will have you unloaded when the kids get home. You know them better than you know me anyway.
3. The telephone.
Dear Uniden aka cheap-ass-POS-that-I-can't-hear-on-from-Target-cordless-variety,
Two things. I may be asking too much, but please don't let any more telemarketers call here. I know it's not your responsibility, but see what you can do from your end. I don't have the car warranties that they are claiming are running out. I don't need their satellite services. I don't want their health insurance. I have called the No Call list and still receive calls from them. You may think it is funny that I move with break-neck-lightening-speed to cradle you in my hand when you ring only to click your button as soon as I hear "Jenny's" WAY too-friendly screechy voice say hello to me. Maybe you get a chuckle knowing you ring just I sit on the toilet or on the couch and have to scramble to find all your counter-parts that haven't been returned to their cradles. Maybe you like hear me cuss like a sailor in Fred Flintstone voice. I am not sure. Either way, stop ringing when non-important people call me. I know you know who they are. They call daily.
Secondly, The static you give me when I step out of your small service area is unacceptable. Grow some balls and strengthen your signal. Okay, maybe not balls if I have to hold them when I use you to talk, but you know what I mean. Stop being static-y.
4. The muffled sounds of whatever song is playing on your ipod and the dragging feet.
Please, honey, for the 849th time, turn down your music. If I can hear it from the front seat over my radio or across the room with the TV on, IT IS TOO LOUD TO BE DIRECTLY PUMPED INTO YOUR EAR CANAL. And the one swift continuous move of jerking one earphone out and saying "Huh?" is getting old. I am too old and fat to have to either walk across the room and tap your shoulder or flail my granny flapped arms at you to get your attention. I know you don't believe me when I tell you will have permanent damage and hearing loss, but it is true. Please pick up your feet when you walk. I know Junior High is hard. I know you have to walk to classes. I know you are probably spent by 4:30 when you get home. Wear skates or put towels under your feet and clean the floors when you walk. It's getting on my last nerve and makes me talk to you through clenched teeth.
5. The non-stop sniffing and leg bouncing.
Please, precious, blow out whatever you have in your nose that is causing you to try to keep it in. Really. Sometimes after I have given you a tissue and nothing comes out, I wonder how you magically make your snot hide and remain up there. I know you are twelve and girls aren't important today, but one day they will be. No girl wants to date a sniffer. In any aspect. I realize you have ADHD. I know you have inside energy that needs to come out. Why must you snuggle up next to me and allow your leg to rub noisily up against mine or the chair? Why can you not, when I gently place my hand on the top of your knee to make it still, just KEEP it still? Why can you not go tire it out by running? Your leg deserves better. And between the sniffing and the bouncing, I am thinking movie night may be more enjoyable for all of us with sound-proof barricades between us.
6. The not exactly a hum, but the throaty moan made when you eat food.
I know I have made light of this in the past. I know you were unaware for 50 years that you did this. But I have talked about everything I can possibly think of during our dining just to hear something other than "the noise". At first it was charming, but the honeymoon is apparently over for that. It makes me snicker whenever I hear it. I know I am sounding bitchy, but without that sound, you would be 99.9% perfect. I am just helping you be a better person.
Sometimes I think Marlee Matlin is so damn lucky.
***Please note that I am not trying to brag with the name brands. Remember it is me. Mrs. Bargain. All appliances were on close-out or great deals. I hate name-droppers.***