No, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has not found a Buns of Steel workout DVD and downsized her derriere. Nor has she had a butt transplant like Cat in the CatDog cartoon. She has not even rushed down to the open seats behind the plate at a Cardinals game. Uh uh. But she has a new seat.
Mrs. Hillbilly Mom's new seat was courtesy of her sweet baboo, her Hillbilly husband, her Farmer H. You see, only two days ago Mrs. Hillbilly Mom was beset with a wet stomach. Being Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, she thought perhaps her abdomen had been splashed in a rousing round of dishwashing. Not so. Water was leaking out the front of the sink. Between the sink and the countertop. That's not supposed to happen.
The water returned, even though it had been wiped thoroughly by Mrs. HM with a Bounty Select-A-Size paper towel. It was coming from inside the sink! A true kitchen horror movie! Mrs. HM called Farmer H to report the danger. Then left the Mansion. Not for that. She already had plans elsewhere.
When she returned, HM had a new seat. She doesn't know what it looks like, but she knows it isn't wet. Apparently, it's a part inside the sink faucet stick-shift-looking doodad that turns on the water. All HM knows it that she can shift from cold to hot much more smoothly, but the cold is still where the hot should be, and the hot is still where the cold should be. Small complaint. Only been dealing with it for 20 years. Surely it could not have been fixed by Farmer H the plumber in that short amount of time.
Yeah. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has a new seat. And, unlike her old one, it's dry.