Chapter 37
"What you should do," Steve said, "is shit in a fancy vase."
I stared at him from the other side of the kitchen counter. We'd been talking about my aunt and uncle, and their annoying tendency to show up and swipe my stuff.
But what this had to do with using a vase as a toilet, I had no idea. I was still staring. "What?"
He looked utterly sincere. "Yeah, and like, when they come in to steal it, splat, they get shit all over them."
Next to him, Anthony was shaking his head. "Dude. No."
I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Godoneof them wasn't completely insane – or so I thought until Anthony added, "If you're going for the splat thing, you don't shit in a vase. You shit in a water balloon."
Steve made a sound of derision. "Get real. You can't shit in a balloon."
"Well, yeah," Anthony said. "Not directly. But you could shit in a bucket and fill the balloon using a pump or something. I mean sure, you'd have to add water–"
I threw up my hands. "You know what? Forget I said anything."
They both turned to look. Steve said, "You sure you're not pregnant?"
It was only the hundredth time he'd asked. After days of this, I was reasonably certain that he was only doing it to get a rise out of me, which of course, it did, every single time.
"For the millionth time," I told him, "I'mnotpregnant. And stop asking, okay?"
He gave me a look that was all wide-eyed innocence. "Why?"
"Because it's irritating."
He grinned. "I know."
I was heading out for groceries. As I dug through my purse in search of my car keys, I said, "Gee thanks."
They'd been working on my sewer for days now – although the amount of hours they spent actually working wasn't terribly impressive. In truth, they seemed to spend most of their time eating pizza, drinking beer, and giving me a hard time.
By now, it was pretty obvious that they weren't fixing things as fast as they could, which for some weird reason, I didn't mind. As strange as it was, I liked having them around, temporarily, anyway – even if they were making me a little crazy.
Across from me, Steve said, "If you don't want topersonallyshit in a vase, you could pay a hobo to do it."
I rolled my eyes. "I'll think about it."
Steve leaned forward. "Seriously?"
"No." I pulled my keys out of my purse. "While I’m out, do you guys need anything?"
"Yeah," Steve said. "Beer."
Oddly enough, Iwasplanning to get beer – only because they seemed to like it so much. "Anything else?" I asked.
Anthony said, "Pizza. Get a couple, alright?"
"Again?" If we ate pizza tonight, it would be the third night in a row. "Don't you guys ever get tired of it?"
"Not if you're buying," Steve said.
I had to laugh. In truth, they'd been treating me to pizza for the last few days. Already, I felt incredibly guilty and was trying to keep track of everything they were spending. Someday, I vowed, I'd pay all of them back with interest.
True to form, Anthony reached into his wallet and pulled out a fifty. "While you're out, get some donuts or something, will ya?" He made a face. "If I eat one more bran muffin,I'mgonna be shitting in a vase."
