The #1 son called this afternoon. I had my hands in the sink washing dishes. Have you heard? The Mansion has no dishwasher, save the hands of Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. Not even a Flintstones octopus dishwasher with an elephant trunk faucet. I was also making my lunch of pulled chicken and taquitos and salsa with shredded cheddar.
Farmer H had just come inside, though who knows why, other than to annoy me, since he had been sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch eating a microwaved sausage, egg, and cheese croissant for his own lunch when I left for town to get my soda and mail the phone bill. He said, "It's #1," and answered the phone. "Oh. I thought you'd want to talk to your mom. Oh. Pain and numbness in my arm. But if I moved it, it went away. The vertebrae. They pinch the nerve. It's better after the plate in my neck. You probably just pulled something. Don't you want to talk to your mom? Here she comes! Here she is."
"Hello? Weren't you going to talk to me? I can't believe you! I just wanted to say, 'I'm elbow deep in dishwater, and I have chicken in the microwave, and taquitos in the oven, and I'm grating cheese for salsa.'"
"I KNOW! That's why I wasn't going to talk to you."
"Well, you should. I'm at a stopping point."
We chatted for about five minutes concerning his upcoming interviews with Boeing and Ford. Then he said he had nothing else to say, and I needed to take my taquitos out of the oven.
Around 6:30, while Farmer H was at work where he got called in at 4:30 because two people didn't do a simple job and he had to remedy a situation, I was making him coney dogs when the phone rang again.
"Hi. It's me again. I'm sure you are either in the middle of making supper or eating supper..."
"Yes! Of course I am. Are you all right?"
"Oh, I'm fine. But I was just thinking, how would next weekend be for a trip to the casino? I know you'd been wanting to go, and that's a good time for me."
Let the record show that I had asked if he would like to go and bring one of his friends who lives in his house and turned 21 over the summer. Last time we went, on #1's birthday when HE turned 21, he was by far the youngest person on the property.
"Let me check my calendar. Um...yeah...I think I can make it. Will you be coming by here? Are you spending the night? How much do I have to clean?"
"We'll come by there. Probably won't spend the night."
"So it's just the kitchen and the living room and one bathroom?"
"That only gives me a week!!!"
"A week of time that you are not doing anything else!"
"Hey! There's a 44 oz Diet Coke that had to be consumed every day!"
"I like to go early. What time will we leave? Is your dad invited?"
"I don't care if Dad goes. It doesn't affect my money. But if we go in the morning, we can't drink. I guess that's okay. Drinks are expensive there."
"If we go in the afternoon and you drink, who's going to drive me home?"
"If your Dad goes, he can drive. But since I'll have to give him money, I can't give you as much as last time."
"Oh, I know. That was for my birthday. Anything you want to give is fine."
"I'll work it out. Let's plan on Saturday. I'll let you know what time, after Dad finds out if he has to work Saturday."
Looks like Mrs. HM will be cashing in some scratch-off winnings this week in preparation for a gambling stake. Make that three gambling stakes. Don't you worry about Mrs. HM. She has her own casino money stashed away.
I hope River City is ready for some high rollers!