The Saga Begins

The new house is great. We're close enough to walk almost everywhere-- the grocery store, Biscuit's school, Mimzi & Papa's, Biscuit's dad's house, the doctor's office, the park... the list goes on. And there is a lot I love about this place and few things I don't. But I've learned over the past few weeks that our home shelters more than just us-- it is also home to what has become one of the most foul of all my mortal enemies.

At first I thought it was just me. I thought that I was being overly sensitive and maybe seeing a problem where there wasn't one. Then it started happening more frequently. The laziness, the lack of motivation, the refusal to do what he's asked. Twice in ten minutes, three times in fifteen minutes-- it became more and more obvious as time passed. It was a cute a quirky thing to begin with but day after day, week after week, it's worn my nerves down to the point of raw, burning nakedness.

I can't sleep anymore. I lie awake at night fantasizing dark, evil atrocities of which I am the star offender against this loathsome beast. When I do sleep in short, interrupted bursts, I dream vividly of vanquishing the nastiness this monster has brought into our lives but then I wake to find that he's still there. Intransigent, monolithic, diabolical, he mocks me. I'll never be rid of him. We're players in a sick, twisted, dysfunctional comedy, he and I. We recite our lines and dance our carefully choreographed steps, sing our harsh, dissonant notes to each other and all the while I pretend he doesn't bother me while I'm secretly plotting his demise. I can't stop.

He never speaks to me but I know his name is Crane. He's supposed to save water and benefit the environment. He's supposed to be helping me preserve to environment for my children and the future generations beyond them. He's supposed to help me keep the utility bills low. But he's not doing his job-- he's there, squatting like a hideous toad in the hall bathroom driving me insane and one day, I'm going to destroy him.