I think having your gallbladder taken out must be bad for your memory. Or your disposition. Or maybe it takes away your give-a-darn. Farmer H is skating on thin ice. Which I presume is not recommended so soon after surgery.
Friday night, I came upstairs to get supper ready for the invalid. Even though he'd been out running around across four counties all day. I'd picked up a pork steak dinner for him at Country Mart's deli, along with a big salad for all of us to share. Farmer H had mentioned the night of his surgery that a salad sounded good. He's had the pork steak meal before, and usually gets 2-3 meals from it, because it's a lot of food.
As I rounded the banister, and asked Farmer H how he wanted me to warm his pork steak, he said, not a little churlishly,
"I don't want a lot of food!"
"You don't have to eat it all. I guess you'll want a small bowl of salad."
"No. I don't need salad."
"Okay... last night, you said you liked the salad, and wanted one. So I bought one to help you poop."
"You get yours! I'll make my own!"
"If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come up for another hour. I've barely finished my lunch."
"You make yours, and then I'll come in and make mine."
"Okay. I'm making myself a McRib out of my pork steak."
"I'll do mine."
"Do you want some onion?"
"No."
"Okay. I won't use a whole one. So I'll just throw the rest away."
"I might eat some. Just a couple of slices."
THEN he had the nerve to say it would be nice if I was concerned about his operation!
Dang it! His passive aggressive ways make me so mad! I think it might be time for him to learn another lesson. Like his 30 years of self-laundry duty. Only with meals.
5 comments:
I agree. I think you need to go on kitchen strike.
There is a country song (an old one) by some female singer titled, "My Give a Damn's Busted." Maybe you need to play that song on a continuous loop for Farmer H's entertainment and enlightenment...
Sioux,
I had to look that one up. It's JO DEE MESSINA! I listen to her every couple of days on my lottery-scratchin' playlist. Not that song, though. "Heads Carolina,Tails California," and "I'm Alright," and "Bye Bye."
Looks like the songwriter was Joe Diffie. He did Farmer H's song: "Prop Me Up Beside the Jukebox (When I Die)." That's what HOS and The Veteran always said was Farmer H's song!
The man who can't poop is refusing salad? If he ate salad greens everyday he wouldn't have any trouble at all in the poop area. I guess it's too late to change his mind on that after all these years.
P.S. I love that song by Jo Dee Messina!
River,
Yes, combined with his aversion to the liquid in soup, and thinking one bottle of water a day is a lot! That old dog is not learning any new tricks.
I had to look up that song. It's going on my lottery scratching playlist.
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