The Evil Cheez-It

Today a Cheez-It nearly sent me over the edge.

I found it under the third load of laundry on the bedroom floor. After three days of filling in at work full-time, my house looks like a crazed pack of garage-salers blew through, but was disappointed, and left. Ian just took Sweet Pea to daycare, so what normally looks like a whirlwind of cereal, milk splatters, toys and baby clothes on the floor anyway is compounded by three days of domestic neglect...



...piles of laundry, elusive rice grains and other dried pieces of food from last week newly discovered by my bare feet, and dirty dishes dangerously near the edges on any available space.

So I started with the laundry, but when I uncovered that Cheez-It hiding under the delicates pile, I could only stare, as if adding one more thing on my list of shit-I-have-to-pick-off-the-floor was too much to take. That goddamn Cheez-It had become my nemesis. It was saying, "You think you can clean this place? I have friends everywhere!" I had to think. I carried the hated little renegade with an armload of laundry to the washer and thought about throwing it in... but that would only backfire on my clean, innocent clothes. Then it hit me...of course, the perfect ending for a crunchy smartypants martyr like you. You think you're some kind of hero, getting free, doing the army crawl and hiding out under the dirty pile until I step on you and make a complete mess on my Chinese rug? That's what you want, but you're not going to get it. You're going to be made an example of...with a fate worse than death for a cracker.


I put the Evil Cheez-It BACK on the shelf for Sweet Pea to do with it what she will.