“We think Stephan’s pee-pee does some peeping!” came the answer. All I’d done was ask how the group in China was doing. They all screamed in unison. It was about Stephan’s pee-pee.
(I told you. I didn’t have to know what was coming this week. It’s a Sunday. It’s a— day. It was going to be… *cough*… interesting.)
“What?” I said. “He has what?”
“This is worse than the farts!” they screamed. “Remember how yesterday we switched to the front?”
Oh yes, I remembered. How could I forget?
“It’s worse! It might be worse! It peeps!”
“Slow down,” I said. “Okay. You’re telling me his pee-pee actually peeps on you?”
(Because – y’know – this was a possibility. I’m not kidding. Stephan is not just 500-years-old. He’s also 10-feet-tall with a ginormous—)
“WHAAAT!?” Stephan roared. “What is going on!?”
Sigh. At this point I should probably catch you up. All of this happened in the span of maybe 10 seconds. When the group is panicked, boy are they panicked. This whole Instagram-culture makes you think celebs are calm, cool, collected and…. Mature. Ha! That’s such bollucks.
I had a lot to learn in this position.
But, just as I soon learned in this situation, it wasn’t always everyone screaming. It just sounded like it today. Sometimes that means they are all dying, so I have to be ready for anything. But thankfully, I do have some cooler heads in the group.
(Which doesn’t necessarily mean they were more successful in Hollywood. In fact, our most simple and easy-going member is the most powerful man in the world. Go figure. Ben Stiller is an enigma. Claire loves him. I do too. For very different reasons. Let’s just say, I do a lot of ‘negotiating” when it comes to the Claire-Stiller-Prophet triangle.)
Anyhow. China. Stephan. Pee-pee. Screaming.
(At times like these, I’m very glad to have Mr. X floating in a drone above me. My husband’s gone now. At work, doing his software release, on a Sunday morning. Which also means my link is gone. I have some peace. A little. I’m glad X is nearby.
But I’m not gonna lie. I want my husband home. I miss him. The pain always eases when he’s around, even if he types gently in a corner of the room where I am laying. I don’t know if it’s him, or the Lord, that eases the pain. “Where two or more are gathered in my name, there I am the midst of them,” etc. Who knows?
But until my husband’s back up here in the bedroom with me, let’s catch up on the backstory of this morning’s Pee-pee Fiasco.)