Give a man groceries, and he will eat until his wife goes back to the store. Give a man directions, and he will starve to death.
Once again, Farmer H defied all reason AND MY INSTRUCTIONS for carrying in the groceries! Uh huh. I'm sure you are shocked.
I didn't know if he'd be home, so I put my three bags on the seat behind me in T-Hoe, easy to grab without Scarlett's interference. I sent Farmer H a text with no response. So I called him before I went down Mailbox Hill. He was home, and said he'd come help. I told him the bags were behind me, and that he could also get two 6-packs of his Diet Mountain Dew out of T-Hoe's rear, since I'd only taken in two the day before.
Farmer H was waiting for me at the people-door of the garage. He had turned the light on! No need, because it was still daylight, and a light comes on automatically when the garage door is opened. Anyhoo... he walked right past me, so I opened up T-Hoe's rear, and he got out the soda.
Farmer H opened the door to get the three bags of groceries. One held a tub of margarine, a block of Kerrygold butter, and a small tub of French Onion Dip. Another had two plastic boxes of little chocolate donuts, one for our Super Bowl desserts, and the other for The Pony to take home afterwards. The last bag contained four bananas, a birthday card, and a bag of Vegetable Beef Soup Mix.
"You can leave the bananas, and I'll take that bag in, so you don't bruise them."
"Okay."
"Hand it to me while you're back there."
I put my hand up over my shoulder, so Farmer H could pass that bag beside my headrest and the window. But no. He closed the back door, and stood waiting for me to open my door to hand me the bag. I then had to close my door to allow Farmer H room to walk to the front of the garage and out.
Sweet Gummi Mary! The bag Farmer H had given me held the little chocolate donuts! And he was banging that swinging bag with the bananas against the soda as he went up the steps to the porch.
Is it wrong of me to consider arranging those bananas with the four we had remaining, so that every morning Farmer H will get the bruised ones?
Not at all wrong! Give him the bruised ones. Next time, get out of the car first and then give him the bags you want him to carry.
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteYou seem to think that would be so simple. Farmer H barges out to the garage, and starts grabbing things even though I am commanding him to WAIT, WAIT! I want to tell him what I will take in, and what has glass in it, and what shouldn't be smashed. But he shoves all the bags up on his arm and takes off.
Single minded and only doing what he thought you said!
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteReminds me of that old joke. You put your hand on top of someone's head, and squeeze. "Do you know that this is? A brain-eater. Do you know what it's doing? STARVING!"
I remember those brain-eaters!
ReplyDeleteRiver,
ReplyDeleteYeah, my sister the little future ex-mayor's wife used to pull that on me. I had to turn the tables on her. Then when she'd ask, I'd say, "A brain-eater that couldn't find anything to eat in YOUR head so had to come to mine for a feast?"