Step by Step, I’m wandering around my head, still in bed

Some crazy woman
slept on the floor with her
toddler toddling around the room
dropping books on her head
trying to remove individual hairs
from her head, I think she licked
my forehead, the storm raged outside
and I thought about the muddy cleanup
cardboard boxes in the neighbors yards
newspapers in trees I hope it didn’t
get windy after the torrential downpour
that soaked the silent sentinel’s bed.
I went to bed at 6:30 this morning
the floor next to Girly’s playpen
is
not
comfort
even with
a sleeping bag.

I’m afraid to go into the basement,
no I’m not worried about the cat,
do cats ever drown? I expect to find Bub
sitting in the window well asking me,
“What the hell were
you doing up there?
how did you manage
to water all the windows
at the same time?
I’ve been following you
around the house
secretly watching you
from the inside
lady you got some skills!”

I have this insane fear of flooding
and the washing it dictates afterwards.
I came from the swamplands that flood
every time it rains.

Yes, I had a slum landlord,
but I had a roof overhead,
not always a dry roof,
the leaks moved around,
the sound of water dripping-
can make me fly out of bed like I’ve been stung
or like a woman possessed by saving what I have.
Have you ever tried to save a wet futon?
Let the boat sink, you can’t save it from water damage.

I just bought beds for the boys.
I never had to worry about water
coming in the windows before.

Great, the search for water continues.

I even checked to see if I was in the flood plain.
I missed it by one street. Ask water if it cares.
Water flows under the house, between the houses,
that’s why I have well, right?
Should I check the garage which
is at the bottom of the steep driveway?
Ugh!

Step one:
Uncurl from the fetal position
Step two:
Check for numbness in the left leg
Step three:
Get up, kneeling doesn’t count.
Step four:
Both feet on the floor
Step five:
Put the important papers in an envelope and give up on electronically submitting them.
Step six:
Walk, do not run to the basement.
Step seven:
Count the steps just like you’re holding Girly’s hand. Note to self: Install right hand bannister.
Step eight:
Walk to the drain check for moisture
Step nine:
Empty the reservoir of the dehumidifier into the sink
Step ten:
Look for a puddle under the piano.
Step eleven:
Check the wall for moisture
Step twelve:
Open the art room and have the following deep conversation with Bub.

“Well, I see that you are starting to come out when we open the door?
“meow”
“Does this mean you are ready to explore the rest of the basement?
“meow”
“Do I have to sift your box for poop or are you doing what other cats have done before?
“meow”
“That’s pretty cold, Bub. Humans really don’t enjoy this activity, but I get it.”
“meow”
“If I want to know I’ll have to search for it myself.”
“meow”
“It doesn’t smell like cat poop in here, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t experiment with spraying or pooping. I don’t know you well enough yet. I know you need me.”
“meow”
“You need my thumbs to open the bag of cat food. Actually, you don’t really need me for that.”
“meow”
“Didn’t they teach you to chew a hole in the bag? Or, just to knock it over?”
“meow”
“Ok, sure, you’re too smart to share with ants. Well, Bub, this is going to be an adventure for us both if you can keep your scenting capabilities to yourself and poop only in the box, we will get along just fine.”
“meow”
“Did it get wet in here last night?”
“meow”
“That’s what I thought”

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