Something must have gotten into Marie as she spent her entire Sunday cleaning the main floor of her house--baseboards and all.
And what happened next was people freaked.
"I knew something was odd when I went downstairs for a cup of coffee and she shimmied up to me half singing, half saying: 'Sing with me, sing for the years, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears,'" recounted her loving, yet confused husband who retreated upstairs to the safety of his man cave.
Aerosmith's 'Dream On' song was not the only tune Marie would belt out as she furiously folded laundry.
Marie pushed and shoved furniture, vacuuming spaces that hadn't seen the light in 3 years or more. Suddenly she encountered green rat poop.
"Those rat bastards got into my Coumadin," she shrieked." She then remembered the exterminator had recently planted green blocks of poison around the house to combat a growing field mice population.
Living amidst filth and vermin irritated Marie and she needed to vent on a human.
And that someone would be her youngest child.
"It was a 'Shock and Awe' moment when she burst into my room at 1 p.m. this morning, errr, afternoon, and demanded I bring my laundry as well as a molded bowl of oatmeal upstairs for cleaning. I was scared. I thought she might actually insist I hand over the keys to my car. It was a horrible, unbelievable nightmare--worse than seeing 'Saw 4' ," said Youngest.
After hours of hand scrubbing floors while listening to ANTM on the t.v., Marie worked out her little problems and took realistic stock of her housekeeping.
"I need three months and nothing else to do on weekends. Then maybe, just maybe, I'll be ready to invite the Valle Crucis bourgeoisie over for petite dejeuner. Until then, ain't no one seein' my hillbilly ghetto trailer," she said.
