The Roving Black Hole

So, we have this roving worm hole/poltergeist/tectonic energy thing in the house that so far appears to:
A: Bend time and space
B: Relocate things to ridiculously absurd locations
C: Knock shit down for no G-D reason

And I know it sounds like it would be cool having a roving black hole in your house because it’s a great scapegoat for when you lose your keys and also, who wouldn’t love being able to bend time and space? (although so far the worm hole is persnickety and somewhat averse to being ordered around).

And at first it was, when we managed to navigate an overstuffed sofa through the underground labyrinth known as our basement and into the “finished” section where the TV and Wii and booze are all located. We said it couldn’t be done, but 4 people and 3 hours later, that bad boy was somehow in front of the TV. I have no idea how it got there – I think I blacked out. So we heralded it as The World Series Day Miracle (because this whole thing started when we all agreed that we wanted to watch the World Series on a couch, dammit) and sacrificed a goat to the Black Hole, which was our new Lord and Savior.

But now it’s not.

Because, like, the black hole is kind of the reason we can’t have nice things. Well, that, and Milo, which are by most accounts equally formidable opponents, and explains why the animal shelter found him wandering the cold streets of Mississippi.

(“I bet you USED to have a nice, warm home,” I tell him, “Until you chewed up all their stuff and they had no choice but to drive you to the woods and boot you out of the car. Way to go, asshole.”)

(and if you object to my calling a dog an asshole, then I invite you to come and meet Milo).

So we buy nice things and they either disappear and are never found again, or they get ruined because they fell, or ‘cause Milo ate them, which is kind of a given, right?

One day I bought Milo a kong, which is one of the few toys that he is unable to shred and ingest in mere seconds. So I’m throwing it for him and he’s retrieving it (sometimes), and one time it goes *bounce bounce bounce* down the stairs. So I do down to get it and it’s nowhere in sight. Like, absolutely no where. Later on the basement flooded, so I can say with all confidence that EVERY SINGLE ITEM was removed from the basement and the kong never appeared.

Until a few weeks ago.

Brian found it down in the basement, through the door to the laundry room (which is always kept closed because we have cats that like to squeeze into small places and then give us heart attacks when we don’t see them for days and think they escaped), through the door into the storage area, into the storage area, and into a cat carrier that was closed and perched on top of a high shelf.

Go figure.

And then this morning, at exactly 5:24, we heard this huge CRASH and it turns out that the picture over the mantle (which is too narrow for the cats to get up on), just up and fell and shattered glass everywhere and it sucked SO MUCH to have to clean that shit up at 5:30 in the morning. Those little pieces of glass are impossible to get up. And the whole time I was cleaning, Milo was throwing himself at the bedroom door because god forbid we deny him full access to the house.

(His sense of self-entitlement is THIS____________________________________________________________________________BIG)

So I finally cleaned it up and since I awake up anyway, I decided to go to the gym, even though I hate exercising first thing in the morning.

So where was I going with all this? I have no idea.

I guess the moral of this story is that, like Milo, our roving Black Hole is kind of a pain in the ass, but at least it gets me to exercise once in a while.