The #1 son has long professed that technology is not Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's friend.
Ain't that the truth!
Recently, like yesterday, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has become quite certain that the following items are also on her non-friendship list:
The shopping cart in Save A Lot whose metal loops are quick to snag a thinned-blood nailbed.
The shower door handle that twangs the side of my wrist like a second funny-bone when my thinned-blood brain causes me to be unawares of my position with eyes closed and water sluicing over my head.
The cheese grater with a thin-blood lust, drawing my knuckles closer and closer as the cheese grows smaller and smaller.
The knife cutting fajita chicken, so quick to confuse soft fresh thin-blooded finger flesh with seasoned cooked de-blooded chicken flesh.
Bubble wrap. Helmet. Butcher's gloves. That special suit that shark-divers wear.
Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is ready to start her day.
2 comments:
Or, you could become The Bubble Girl.
Then Jerry, George and Elaine could drop by and see you--through a layer of plastic, of course...
Sioux,
And we would raise our YooHoos in a toast, and discuss the Moops' invasion of Spain in the 8th century. But I get control of the remote.
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