Worst. Guest. Ever.

OBITUARIES

Flat Stanley
circa 2011

Beloved friend of Colton Griffin and family, professional grifter and free-loader. Lured his victims using Kindergartners as bait to get into the homes of their families and friends across the country. He entered these homes under the guise of looking for photo opps during a "family-friendly" adventure. But once lodging was secured he was prone to late night binges and swearing. His last day on this earth was spent doing what he loved: GTL. His body was recovered from the paper shredder. Authorities suspect foul play. Services TBD.

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{2:08 am Flat Stanley is well into his late-night binge of Canadian Beer and The Jersey Shore Marathon}

{4:38 am Flat Stanley loses his bearings and in his confusion ends up in the Study}

{4:55 am Flat Stanely decides to operate heavy machinery for amusement.}

{4:56 am Flat Stanley...errrr... Shredded Stanley's remains.}

Images are a dramatization of events. No Flat Stanleys were harmed in the making of this blog.

Blast from the Past

I ran across an old essay I had written. Matt would LOVE for you to read this excerpt...

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My day began with a dream. My unconscious state would not step aside for the breaking of a new day. My dream was filled with the sound of my cell phone ringing. Shrill double ring, then pause. Shrill double ring, then pause. Meanwhile, Dream Matt was handing me the cell phone, but my attention shifted to the noises produced by my baby daughter. I could hear her babbling: dadadada…hakhakhakhak (a noise imitating a cough). Suddenly, I was brought out of my dream by the sound of air breaking when the door is opened to a soundless room. My eyes slightly opened and adjusted quickly to the blue tinted room. The aquatic ambience was because of a blue velum blanket that was covering the window. I was restricted to the right side of the queen size bed. A giant cardboard box of baby clothes sat on the left hand side. The legs from a pink pair of overalls with red and yellow flowers embroidered on the ankles peeked over the edge. I was cocooned under layers of bed linens: a slate blue sheet, a slate blue thermal blanket, a denim comforter, and a hunter green fur-like blanket. My mop-haired Yorkshire terrier bounded into the room with just 2 steps and landed on my right shoulder and began sniffing my ear. My husband stood halfway in the doorway. His wooly body was greasy from a night of fever and vomiting. His right hand was on the door handle. He wore only his red and olive green plaid boxers from Abercrombie & Fitch. He mumbled that the baby was awake. The ringing of the cell phone floated in from the kitchen. No one made an attempt to answer it. He stumbled out of the doorway and went two feet down the hallway into the master bedroom. I could hear his body hitting the sheets of our bed. My very heavy eyes that had managed to only get half way open fell closed again. Time passed. Two minutes maybe. My husband moaned, “Jaime. Jaime. The baby.” I groaned in response. I scooted to the right bottom corner of the bed. I could not roll off the side of the bed because a KitchenAid Mixer box donning a gift receipt, blocked my exit. A sea green baby swing carrying two king size pillows, sans pillowcases, in its seat was to the left of the appliance and also prevented me from getting out of the bed from the right side. Directly south of the bed was a disassembled gray recliner. The recliner back laid face up in the rocker seat. The right corner was my only feasible route. My eyes were still half shut. Until I entered the master bedroom. Bleach stains on the light beige carpet jolted my eyes wide open. There was a trail from the left side of the bed, snaking in front of the dresser, and ending at the door way of the bathroom where the tile began. I looked over at my sickly husband. He was eggrolled under the quilt. His lips were parted. It appeared that he was asleep. The corners of my eyes took in the clutter that permanently resided on our dresser: a white with orange rim ceramic change bowl, a change can picturing dolphins and other sea life, a square jewelry box with a stack of mail on it, a silver picture frame holding the happy mugs of a honeymooning couple in snow-covered mountains, a slew of white ankle socks without mates, a prescription bottle, a purple tube of lanolin, a wire basket with intermittent beads woven throughout. The room was freshly painted Silver Sage and the blue tape at the seams of the wall and ceiling still lingered. I gingerly stepped across the room, careful to avoid the mini-warzones of carpet cleaner and vomit. I stepped into the light pinkish tiled with grey grout bathroom. The silver sage with cream ticking shower curtain that hung from metal rings blocked out the rising sun. On the right hand side of the door and in front of the linen closet was a plastic blue pail filled with dingy water. A mop was soaking in it and leaned against the closet door. I began my morning ritual by reaching for my pink Oral-B toothbrush and adding a layer of Colgate Total toothpaste to the bristles. I spritzed it with water from the tap and began brushing. As I brushed my teeth, I turned around to inspect the state of the bathroom. I turned counterclockwise 90 degrees. I gasped as I saw traces of my husband’s dinner on the door frame to our closet. I slowly turned another 90 degrees towards the cubby area that houses the toilet. I ceased brushing momentarily as my eyes scanned the orange-red mess on the wall behind the toilet, on the wall in front of the toilet, on the outside of the toilet, on the baseboards, on the tiny white step trashcan a foot in front of the toilet. My husband must have heard my gasp of disgust and called from bed, “I cleaned most of it up. I mopped and cleaned the toilet.” I tuned him out at that point and eyes returned to the toilet. All I could think was, “Did he clean it with his eyes shut?” I immediately felt guilty since he was so sick. My eyes scanned the tile floor. I needed to assess the damage so I could estimate the amount of cleaning products and time I would need to return to the bathroom to its disinfected state. I returned to the sink to finish brushing my teeth.

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