Y’all, I am a magnet for weirdness.
I don’t know what it is, but something about me–or perhaps my family–just seems to draw in the crazies. It’s like we’re all holding blinking neon signs above our heads that say PLEASE TO BE SHARING YOUR CRAZY! Or maybe we’re like animals and give off a pheromone that attracts them, like carrion beetles to those rotten meat flowers or sharks to an open wound. They circle us, then come in for the kill.
Case in point: This morning, I caught a half-naked man attempting to bathe himself, soap and all, in our outside spigot.
I’ll wait until you stop laughing.
So there I was, minding my own business and making Boo’s breakfast on a rainy Sunday morning, when I heard the unmistakable sound of the outside faucet being turned on. (It’s unmistakable because it sounds exactly like a Roomba vacuum cleaner having sex with blender.) I paused for a moment to see if it would stop like it would if the neighborhood children were messing with it, but it didn’t. So I did what I do best–contorted myself into a half standing, half crouching position and peeked out from a crack between two slats in the blinds, ninja style. It’s my patented if-I-can-see-you-but-you-can’t-see-me-watching-you-I’m-not-really-that-nosy stance. I use it a lot to spy on the neighbors and make sure they aren’t running a black market organ procurement program out of their garages. And y’all, it works.
But it didn’t take any degree of ninja stealth to catch this guy. He was kneeling on the grass beside our house, scrubbing his pits. In the rain. I’m pretty sure my mouth dropped open when I saw him start rubbing soap into his Grizzly Adams beard.
Naturally, I couldn’t keep this to myself. I sprinted back to our bedroom where Red was still asleep. I catapulted myself onto the bed and poked him in the shoulder vigorously. “Baby. Wake up! There is a man outside RIGHT NOW. A half naked man. OUTSIDE. Washing himself in our spigot.”
Red rolled over, pushed his sleepy mask off his forehead, and smiled. Like it was no big thing that a bearded hobo was about to be cleansing his jiggly bits on our front lawn.
Because in the grand scheme of weird things that have happened to us, it really wasn’t that weird.
Does stuff like this happen to anyone else?
Edited to add: Holy shit, y’all. THE NAKED MAN IS BACK. HE’S SCRUBBING HIMSELF IN OUR SPIGOT. AGAIN. And he looks just like the Adam Sandler’s caddy from Happy Gilmore. (Google that shit. You’ll laugh.) That’s TWO times in ONE day. I think that’s the universe trying to tell me something.
Edited again: Holy shit, y’all. What if this hobo has been living in our next door neighbor’s house this whole time? Like Casper the Homeless Bearded Ghost? AIIIIEEEEEEE!