Saturday, June 29, 2013

Perhaps An R-Rated Chick Flick Is Not The Pony's Cup Of Tea

Can you believe The Pony turned down a chance to see The Heat? It's Sandra Bullock! AND Melissa McCarthy! Does he not have a funny bone? I know he was born with one, unlike his unfortunate father. I'm sure The Pony's funny bone has not atrophied. Only last night, on the phone, he exhibited his droll sense of humor.

"I can tell you don't want to talk to me. So I'll hang up now."

"It's not that I don't WANT to talk to you..."

"I know. You're not much one for small talk. You can't wait to get off the phone with ANYBODY, not just me. You're just not much of a talker."

"I'm not GRANDMA."

So...he is well aware of how to set up a punchline. Responds appropriately to my humor. Perhaps I've mentioned that we hear things afoot in the Mansion. Lately, there's been a rash of soda-openings. You know, the sound a flip-top makes when you crack open a can. The Pony hears it in my office while I'm not in there. I hear it out in the main basement when The Pony isn't there. Then we have the new light-switchy sound, and closing doors upstairs to accompany the phantom footsteps.

Yesterday, the #1 son commanded The Pony to bring him a soda. We keep them in the basement mini-fridge, where The Pony hangs out, even though he doesn't drink much soda. It frees up Frig, the main kitchen stainless steel Frigidaire, for four 18-cartons of eggs, and enough spare room should Farmer H cart in some Auction Meat. The Pony sighed heavily, grabbed a Sprite (bet you thought it was going to be Diet Coke, huh) and ran it upstairs to #1's room. He huffed back down the steps. He doesn't mind bringing sodas to Farmer H, but it gets his goat to wait on the layabout #1.

I was folding boys' boxer briefs while not relaxing in Farmer H's La-Z-Boy in front of the fake fireplace. "Hey! Pony! I just heard a soda open in #1's room!"

I could hear his snort and chuckle one floor below.


Sioux said...

Is he trying to gaslight you?

As far as the movie, perhaps he was offended when the whole airbrushed Melissa McCarthygate thing happened...and was protesting by not going to see the movie.

Or maybe since he lives with MRS. Congeniality, he doesn't need to see an actress who played a secondhand version?

Or perhaps he's scared he might see McCarthy take an explosive dump in a sink--again?

This sounds like a case for a top-notch detective...

Hillbilly Mom said...

Thank the Gummi Mary, my BFF Google was able to explain what The Pony may or may not be trying to do to me. What a quaint expression, Madam. If only it had been Seinworthy, I would have grasped your meaning forthwith.

The Pony has never seen the explosive dump, nor a steak-chomping Gracie Lou Freebush being plucked and waxed within an inch of her life. So post-cinematic stress syndrome is off the table.

Here's to world peace, Madam. Or at least harsher punishment for parole violators.

Chickadee said...

Good grief you're right. How could he pass up Sandra Bullock AND Melissa McCarthy. Well, it DOES look like a chick flick. I want to see it.

Hillbilly Mom said...

You should see it. It's a CHICK flick, after all. Made just for you!