Saturday, February 13, 2016

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom Gets The Short End Of The Benefit Stick

Here on the eve of Valentine's Day, I must pose a very important question.

Shouldn't one's life partner make one's life EASIER?

Uh huh. Isn't that why people mate up? Not just the physical attraction, or the tax break. Isn't it to go through life in a more efficient manner? A lady has a protector, somebody to maintain her plumbing, somebody to trim her hedges, somebody to program the TV remote, somebody to squash bugs. A gentleman has somebody to toot his horn, coordinate his wardrobe, cook his meals, wash his clothes, pay his bills, raise his kids, and clean his house.

So you would think, wouldn't you, that one half of the partnership would not make the other half of the partnership's life HARDER. Wouldn't you?

This morning Farmer H took off for a three-hour haircut. I was elbow-deep in dishwater, having already wiped up a bit of Farmer H's bidness off the back of the toilet seat, made the shopping list, washed two loads of laundry, given The Pony a standing order to assist me with cleaning out Frig II at a moment's notice, and laid out frozen deer burger for frying while the rest of a pot of chili simmered in wait, when in tromped Farmer H through the kitchen door.

"Could you grab the broom and sweep up all your mud clods? They hurt my feet, and I'm kind of busy right now. We're going to the store as soon as I get this chili together."

Let the record show that Farmer H had requested the chili when his friend Buddy gave him the deer burger earlier this week.

"There you go! Always on me! Sure, I'll sweep up the floor."

"Good. Because it's the mud that YOU tracked in."

"Oh, yeah. I'm the only one."

"You are."

"Of course I am."

"The Pony and I walk from the garage to the house. On the sidewalk and the porch."

"Yeah. I'm the only one that goes out in the yard."

"You are."

Let the record show that Farmer H swept the kitchen floor. Then stomped out for parts unknown, leaving in his wake five new mud clods as he rounded the end of the kitchen counter on the way to the door. He was not in agreement with the origin of this mud when he returned.

"Oh, when you left, you left MORE mud on the floor after you swept."

"Huh. I'd like to know HOW! I came home from the barbershop, and the only place I wore them boots was at work yesterday, on concrete."

"That may be. I guess you had it stuck in there from the day before. That's more likely than me going outside and digging up mud and throwing it on the kitchen floor while you were gone, don't you think?."

Sometimes, Farmer H is a hard-headed old goat.


Sioux said...

Men are always teflon when it comes to messes.

They NEVER did it, they don't see it, they can't smell it and they don't care about it.

Hillbilly Mom said...

So succinct. You have captured the essence of what I was trying to convey. In another life, I think you must have been a telegraph writer.