Thursday, May 24, 2012

The Empress And The Key

Like Elaine's friends from the Bizarro World (Kevin, Gene, and Feldman), Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is a study in opposites.

Today, for instance, she re-enacted The Princess and the Pea. With a few minor differences, of course. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is no princess. She is the Empress of Hillmomba, by cracky!

I set out around noon to mail some bills, and treat myself to some gas station chicken. That's because somewhere, somehow, a commenter on another blog put the idea into my mind. All went as planned. I got a 44 oz. Diet Coke, because when you're chowing down on delicious crispy gas station fried chicken, you don't want a sugary keg of soda to fill you up unnecessarily.

I put my precious beverage in the cup holder, then opened the back passenger door to deposit my chicken. I have to open the box to let it breathe. Nobody likes soggy, suffocated fowl. I climbed up into the control center of T-Hoe, put a stack of tissues over the top of my caffeine-filled elixir so as not to melt the ice on the way back to Hillmomba, and buckled my seat belt. It was going to be a bumpy ride, you know. Because I live on a gravel road.

The keys were missing!

I could not begin my journey of five miles with a single twist of my wrist. Because the keys were missing! Missing, I say! The keys were missing! And even worse, the gas station chicken was getting cold, and the 44 oz. Diet Coke was getting hot! Oh, the humanity!

Then I remembered where I had last seen the keys. I opened my door, leaned way over, and fetched them out from under my ample buttocks.

I didn't even feel them.

I think, perhaps, that gas station chicken and I should part ways.


Sioux said...

That sounds like a skill I'd love to have...

It's the Hillbilly Magician...Now you see the keys, now you don't...

Or...a way to keep a snack handy for later. You could try hiding the chicken instead of the keys, and see how that works out. You have more room between the cheeks of your butt than in between your cheek and your gum and teeth, after all.

Just a suggestion...

knancy said...

Just wait until you sit on your eye glasses that you left on the toilet sit lid after you get out of your bath. Didn't feel them either, but, boy, they felt me the mangler! Getting old purely sucks.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Ahem! I fear that you are being overly familiar, taking liberties with the cheeks of my butt! Next thing I know, you'll have an entire Thanksgiving turkey up in there. Giblets and all.

Well, in your defense, you couldn't see your glasses on the toilet seat because YOU WEREN'T WEARING YOUR GLASSES!