Another night in paradise

A little background first: our toilet has had some issues lately, mostly that after you flush, the flapper thing didn’t seal so the tank didn’t fill so the water kept running. The Farmer put new innards in the tank and now the flapper thing seals just fine so the tank fills. Which you would think would solve the problem but apparently not.

Tuesday, 1:30 a.m., thunder and lightning roll in, weather radio goes off in the kitchen and starts blasting flood warnings, Jamie leaps onto the bed and wedges himself between me and the Farmer.

Me: Is this necessary? It’s just heavy rain, nothing severe.

Jamie: Thunder. Scared. Sleep with you.

Me: Okay, but you can’t pant and thrash and shake the bed.

Jamie: Nope. Quiet. See? Never know I’m here.

Weather radio: . . . THUNDERSTORM COMPLEX PRODUCING HEAVING RAIN MOVING THROUGH THE AREA. . .

Phoenix, flying onto the bed: WHEE! Here I come! Make room for me!

Me: Oooof! This is NOT necessary! Can’t you sleep on the floor like a dog?

Phoenix: No. HE sleeps on the bed, I sleep on the bed. Deal with it. Um, scared?

Me: You are NOT scared. Get off my stomach.

Jamie: Being quiet. See? Way quieter than him.

Phoenix, wiggling himself into a nest: Bite me.

Weather radio: . . . NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE IN THE QUAD CITIES HAS ISSUED FLASH FLOOD WARNINGS FOR THE FOLLOWING IOWA COUNTIES . . .

Farmer: Why are there so many dogs on the bed?

Me: Because you married me. Deal with it.

Farmer: If I get up to pee are they going to let me back in bed?

Me: Take your chances.

Farmer, leaving the room: %$#@!

Weather radio: . . . DEW POINTS IN THE UPPER 70S PRODUCING HEAT INDICES OF 100 TO 105 DEGREES FOR COUNTIES ALONG AND SOUTH OF INTERSTATE 80 . . .

Twenty minutes later, he hasn’t returned. I shove Phoenix out of the way and get up. Farmer is in the bathroom, lights on, lid off the toilet tank, poking at toilet innards. Miscellaneous tools are scattered around.

Me: What are you doing?

Farmer: Fixing the toilet.

Me: At 2 a.m.?

Farmer: It keeps running.

Me: I thought you fixed that.

Farmer: Thought I had, too.

Me (gift for the obvious): So what’s wrong?

Farmer: It keeps running.

(Well, I asked.)

Me, wondering why I didn’t just stay in bed: Can you fix it?

Farmer: Dunno.

Me, thinking This is a freaking insane conversation at 2 a.m.

Farmer: I’m shutting the water off. You’ll have one flush in the morning.

Me: Now there’s a happy thought.

Weather radio: A BAND OF HEAVY RAIN BETWEEN 3 AND 5 INCHES IS POSSIBLE BY THE TIME THE RAIN ENDS MID TO LATE MORNING TODAY.

Me, swatting radio off: Great, too much water everywhere.

Jamie, sprawled across the bed: You left. We took your spot. You weren’t using it.

Me: I can see that. Move over.

Jamie: Nooooooooo!

Me: For heaven’s sake, you don’t have to get off the bed, just let me in!

Jamie, moves 1 inch: Okay. You get in now.

Me: Nix, budge over.

Phoenix: Sleeping. Lemme ’lone.

Me: Sleeping, my arse. Move.

Phoenix: Can’t. Comfy. Sleeping. Go ’way.

Me: %$#@!

Both dogs fly off the bed. I get in. Both dogs fly back on.

I fall asleep, dreaming of going to work where I can use the toilet, flush and walk away without the need for further maintenance or flooding worries. Jamie falls asleep, dreaming of autumn, when thunderstorms are rare. Phoenix falls asleep, dreaming the humans buy a king-sized bed so he can have his very own spot on it every night. The Farmer returns, wedges himself into the leftover space and falls asleep, dreaming of what life might have been like if he’d married a cat lover.