Sometimes, I really love my life.
At almost exactly 6 this morning, my phone buzzed a text message. It was Auntie, wanting to know if I was up.
“Oddly enough, yes,” I replied; “I woke – BING! – at 5:30. NO idea why. What’s up (besides us; yuck, yuck!)?” (even in the morning, I have a sense of humor.)
Not more than 15 seconds later, the phone starts ringing. Well, not ringing, per se; Auntie’s ring tone is the sound of a motorcycle revving, but that’s neither here nor there. The conversation went something like this:
Me: Good morning!
Auntie: Hey. There’s a skunk in the pool, and animal control doesn’t go on duty until 7:00. What do I do?!
(At this point, I’m feeling a mixture of pride that she would call me for advice about such a vexing problem, and a little bit of confusion about why she would call me for advice about a skunk in the pool.)
Me: How long is your skimmer? Can you nudge him to a corner?
Auntie: How far can they spray? He’s already in the corner. He can’t get out.
Me: Okay, here’s what you do; go get a long towel, anchor it with some rocks or something, and drape the end into the pool so he’s got something to grip to pull himself out.
Auntie (lowing her voice appreciatively): Oh! That’s a good idea! I’m gonna go try that; I’ll call ya later.
I swear, you guys; I don’t make any of this shit up.
At last report, the skunk made it out of the pool (the towel trick worked) and looked as though he’d survive to stink another day. Auntie’s going to “shock the shit out of the pool” in an attempt to rid it of any evidence that the skunk was ever there.
In other news, far as I’m aware, Mom made it into care with no major incidents. I’m in the process of getting a report and visiting information from Bobbie and will make my way over there this evening (though I might have to take a boat instead of the Puck; I’m not kidding – it’s POURING out right now). I’ll make sure I say everything I need to say before I go, and I’ll leave with a full and guilt-free heart.
At least, that’s my intention…