When I got back from town Saturday afternoon, in the 107-degree heat, I carried in an 8-pack of Gatorade that had been riding in the back seat of T-Hoe because I couldn't carry it the day I bought it. Farmer H has a way of making himself scarce when there are groceries to be carried.
Farmer H was in Poolio when I left. I can only see about half of Poolio as I walk to the kitchen door with my arms full. I had given up any hope of getting help. Not that I needed it Saturday, with just the heavy, heavy Gatorade.
As I walked in, I called out to see if Farmer H was in the Mansion. My purpose being to find out if he wanted some of our eggroll hoard along with the sandwich he was having for supper.
"Hey! Are you in here? HELLOOOOO?"
No answer. I continued around the end of the counter to set the Gatorade down along the wall. In doing so, it hit two empty 12-pack cardboard cartons that once held Shasta Diet Cola. I had just told Farmer H on Wednesday to put them in the very full trash bag as he bagged it up. Once out of the wastebasket, there's room galore in that large trash bag. He'd said he was going to burn stuff, and he'd burn them.
Of course that did not happen between Wednesday and Saturday. The Gatorade hit the bottom box, which toppled both of them under my feet.
"RASSEN FRASSEN FRIGGIN BOXIN' BOXES! I HATE THOSE FRIGGIN' RASSEN FRASSEN BOXY BOXES!!!"
Well. From the living room came such a clatter of gnashing teeth and harsh words that I was taken aback. Farmer H launched a lecture on my terribleness and complainyness and foul-mouthedness that I haven't heard in... well... a couple of days.
"I don't know why you're lecturing me."
"Because of your foul mouth and complaining. I'm sick of it. All you do it run me down!"
"How is this about YOU? Am I not allowed to express myself? I hollered to see if you were in here, and you WEREN'T! Now you're making up what I said, and making it about YOU! As far as I knew, I was in the house ALONE! But I'm not allowed to express myself when I trip on boxes? I guess when you're in Pittsburgh visiting Genius, I also have to stay mute, because you might hear me, all the way from there? You are the most controlling man I ever met in my life!"
"I AM NOT CONTROLLING!"
"But according to YOU, I should never be able to express myself unless it's in a manner you approve of! Explain to me how my yelling in what I thought was an empty house gives you a reason to lecture me! I DID holler for you to see if you were in here, and you chose not to answer. Yet you heard everything ELSE I said when I thought I was alone. Explain to me how I was supposed to know you were here!"
Of course that clammed up the lecturer. SOME PEOPLE are so unreasonable!
So, does Farmer H not use colorful words?
ReplyDeleteIs he able to cast stones, since he is without fault?
Sioux,
ReplyDeleteFarmer H is the Peter Max of colorful words, though Farmer H's creations hang in the air, and not on a wall.
And he STILL didn't come out and move those empty boxes? Shame on him.
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteHeh, heh, Farmer H must have regretted missing out on those eggrolls! About 30 minutes later, he came through the kitchen under the guise of bringing in some Diet Mountain Dew from T-Hoe's rear. AND he picked up those two Shasta cartons and put them on top of Juno's dog house. At least they're out of the kitchen, awaiting burning, and Juno won't mind.
The point is, all he had to do before tying up that trash bag was PUT IN THE BOXES! It's 107 freakin' degrees! Nobody wants to start a fire to burn cardboard! So simple a solution, yet he didn't want to be told what to do.
I forgot to add the virtual slap upside the head.
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteAfter his antics yesterday while sweaving us to the casino, Farmer H deserves a double-slap.
Familiar to me, your angst with your mate! You were nicer than me, I would have flung the boxes at him while entertaining him with foul language.
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteYou are so much more energetic! That box-throwing would exhaust me. I don't actually have to USE the foul language for Farmer H to accuse me of it. Like HeWho, his hearing is questionable, so he makes things up.