the good, the bad, the ugly . . .

this story is brought to you from a land far beyond ugly . . . as in downright disgusting and with that fair warning, advance your eyeballs at your own risk. I cannot be responsible for churned stomachs, disrupted sleep patterns or psychotic episodes. STOP READING NOW!!!!

Last night, the 9TS and I were happily ensconced in bed watching the late night news when I looked down to see sesame seeds laying on my sheets. Sesame seeds? Yep. Now while it is true that we are late night noshers, sesame seeds are tops on my diverticulitis no no list. I mean how many people drive through McDonald's requesting fish buns for their Big Mac's . . . or steal their husbands bottom buns in exchange for your sesame seed encrusted top buns when caught in a pickle . . . or who has to order her Kentucky rolls at the local sushi joint minus the sesame seeds. Me. I do not eat sesame seeds. EVER.

And so I roll my evil eyes over to the 9TS. While I was spitting cherry pits, what was he noshing on? Ah, a Nonni turtle biscotti. I start in on him about his slovenly ways when he blurts out the truth: Nonni turtle biscotti does not have sesame seeds. Hum.

I ticked him off my list and went to the next possible suspect: the kidlet! She had been in town and she had nestled in my bed . . . while eating Chex mix of some type. So now the sloth and I are downstairs thumbing meticulously through a partially empty bag. Nope, not a sesame seed in sight . . . besides which, the linens had been changed since then.

Why, you ask, am I freaking out about the presence of sesame seeds in my bed? Because somewhere in the recesses of my little, tiny, pea brain, I remember a similar episode with Hawky, my now deceased little gray, well adored, cat. And folks, they weren't sesame seeds! With my heart thumping, I stripped the bed and put the sheets in the washing machine and grabbed a new set from the linen closet. By slightly after midnight, I was snoozing away . . . until my freakishly tuned brain shocked itself awake thinking about sesame seeds and there, perched near my head was little Pippin sound asleep on the new clean sheets. I nudged her away and there they were, new sesame seeds. GULP!

And so at 2 something something in the morning I was reading about tape worms of the feline persuasion . . . white rice that turns into lightly toasted sesame seeds the article exclaimed. Oh thank you for the photos dear world wide web! Grumble. Grumble.

Bright and early this morning I am on the phone with the vet technician describing my plight. I have no idea why she thought my infestation was so funny but as I kept on, she broke into a full fledged guffaw. Not nice.

With Pippin properly medicated and all three beasties having been doused with Advantage, my quilt is in the washing machine and the second set of sheets will follow. Thankfully, the medicine is fast acting and tonight I will sleep in peace . . . having disinfected the entire house, taken seven showers and bleached everything within reach.

Now if you read this even after I specifically asked you not to, please don't point and giggle to your girl friend next time we pass in the street. I am hanging my head in shame all on my own. I don't need a big scarlet "S" sewn on my sweater. GAH!