More WATER!

I think that the Valium is working. Despite an episode of extreme constipation, given rise to concern of a ‘blockage’, PantyHead has been rather, and I have trouble saying the word, nice. We’ve actually conversed. Well, I ask a question and she shouts a long-winded diatribe back at me (and often covers me in spittle). So far we have covered some of her childhood and a time when she was not quite so folicularly (new word) challenged. In fact if she is to be believed she once had a flowing mane of auburn/red/copper infused locks. I am actually starting to feel sad for her that she has to wear the ‘Rod Stewart’ or Panties upon her balding dome.

But so saying there are still things that amaze me about her. As PantyHead was suffering from a bowel impaction I have spent a fair portion of the last few days standing sentinel at the toilet door in case she requires my (unspecified) services. Allow me to recap:

PantyHead: Oooh, Emma help me in there. [Gestures towards toilet door.]

Me: Right. [Put Game Face on.]

[Long walk, all of 10 steps to bathroom. PantyHead clutching on to my right arm, moving at snails pace so as not to ‘dislodge anything.’ Enter bathroom.]

PantyHead: Hold my skirts up. Hold ‘em up, I don’t want them getting wet.

Me: Yes. [Hoiking skirt up around her ears while she settles on John Crapper’s historic invention.]

PantyHead: Ooh, I’m spending quite a big penny. Oh, there’s something else. I’ll call you.

Me: OK! [Don't need to be told twice. Hightail it to a safe distance within earshot and out of nasal danger.]

PantyHead: MMMMM, MOOOOO, MOOOOO, MMMMMMM [Pause] MOOOO, MMMM, MOOOOOOOO [Sounds of a barnyard animal escape tightly closed bathroom door.] MOOOOO, MOOOOOO [Pause] MOOOOO [Starting to worry PantyHead might drop a lung] MOOOOO, EMMA-LAURA [my new double-barrel moniker] EMMA!

Me: Yes, COMING! [Burst through bathroom door, remarkably no stench apparent?]

PantyHead: Oh, Emma I need a drink of water. Quick, a drink of water!

Me: [Exit stage left to retrieve hydration, have never heard of anyone requiring mid-shit water break before. Return and hand glass to her Pantyship.]

PantyHead: Oh, Thank you. It’s hard work you know?

Me: Clearly.

PantyHead: What?

Me: Nothing dearie. Should I take that glass?

PantyHead: Yes, ooh, I’ll call you.

Me: [Exit, like streak of cat’s piss. Standby awaiting further instruction]

PantyHead: MOOOO, MOOOO, MMMMMOOOOOO, MMMMMMM [Pause] MOOOO

Me: [Thinking to self] I wonder what a cow in labour sounds like?

PantyHead: MOOOOO, MOOOO, EMMA! LAURA! EMMA!

Me: [Re-entering fortress of solitude (minus the solitude)] I’M HERE. YES?

PantyHead: More water!

Me: [Rehydrate PantyHead, worry that she may be in danger of falling through own bottom.]

PantyHead: Ok [hands me glass] I’ll call you.

[And there were more barnyard sounds, quite a few more until finally:]

PantyHead: EMMA! EMMA!

Me: YES, I’M HERE.

PantyHead: Hold my skirts up. It wasn’t anything.

------------------------------------------Eish------------------------------------------