Sometimes, The Pettiness Astounds Me

Today at 11:30, with the total solar eclipse scheduled to begin any minute, Farmer H decided to take a drive to town. To see if there were a lot of people watching the total solar eclipse. He seemed bumfuzzled when I told him to take his eclipse glasses with him.

"I'm not going to be looking at the sun. I'm going to be looking at the people."

Such is the logic of Farmer H. I told him that he needed to be home by 1:00, because totality would be around 1:12, and only last for two minutes or so. Farmer H didn't even leave until nigh on 11:45. It is a 10-15 minute drive to town, and a 10-15 minute drive back, and one would imagine that looking at the disappearing sun in stages before the total eclipse might be part of the whole eclipse-viewing experience.

"Since you're going to town anyway, could you bring me back a soda?"

"Yeah. I can do that. Where do you want it from?"

"The gas station chicken store. But if they're out, from Orb K. And if they're out, then forget it, because I planned to make my own today anyway. If they're too busy, don't worry about it. Do I need to give you money?"

"Naw. I can buy you a soda."

I picked my jaw up off the floor, and pushed my luck.

"Can you get me two scratch-off tickets? Five-dollar ones? I'll give you the money. I'll even get you the losers so you can see which two I want."

"You know I'm no good at buying lottery tickets."

"I know. But it's only $10 of my money wasted. So you're saying you won't get them?"

"I'll get you a soda."

There you have it. Farmer H, going to town anyway, and standing right there at the counter, with a 44 oz Diet Coke sitting on the glass, could not be bothered to take 15 seconds and point at two tickets and buy them with the money I would provide.. Sweet Gummi Mary! It's not like I asked him to do anything out-of-the-way, or cash in a winner!

THEN he came home with my soda, and one for himself. All smug and crap.

"I got us TWO sodas for $2.50!"

Yes. I know they have a special that is buy one and get one for 75 cents. But I don't utilize that special, because really, WHO needs 88 oz of Diet Coke? My 44 and the 32 I add throughout the evening is plenty for a normal person. Sheesh!

THEN Farmer H said he was going to have a bacon sandwich for lunch. Let the record show that yesterday, I made carrots/potatoes/onions with Hidden Valley Ranch powder, and bacon draped over the top. I cooked TWO POUNDS of bacon. One pound was thick-sliced, the other regular. Farmer H ate some bacon and vegetables for lunch around 3:00, and then had a bacon sandwich for supper. And now, he wanted to have more bacon for lunch.

"Was that all the bacon?"

"Um...I made the thick-sliced for you, and the other I was going to use to make my own chicken/bacon/ranch pinwheels this week, plus have some for supper like I did last night."

"Oh. Because I only had five pieces, and there are just three left."

"Okay. So what are you going to have for supper? I had planned on you having bacon with the vegetables. But since you'll have eaten a pound of bacon in less than 24 hours, I guess I can come up with something else. Or you might as well eat my bacon. I can make you chicken chunks to go with your vegetables tonight."

With that, Farmer H stalked outside to MOW THE YARD while the eclipse was in progress. Eating NO lunch at all. I guess he showed ME! You'd think someone with diabetes might take better care of his blood sugar levels. But then again, he probably picked up some donuts while he was in town. Since they were out yesterday.

Seriously, people! Farmer H asked me to buy bologna and hot dogs for his lunches on the weekends, and he also had leftover Chinese chicken with rice and little baby corns and water chestnuts that I made for supper the other night. But no. He HAS to eat all the bacon as soon as he sees that it's cooked. Eat it until it's gone, so that I have to scramble for another supper menu.

And to think, Farmer H used to make fun of our neighbor, Copper's Human Dad, because he would sit at home, wasting away, complaining that his wife, who worked at The Devil's Playground, wasn't there to make him lunch. "You'd think the guy could open a can of soup for himself! That's just ridiculous, sitting around hungry, waiting for Copper's Human Mom to make him some lunch." Yeah. How the worm has turned.

I guess I'm lucky that Farmer H  deigned to bring me a 44 oz Diet Coke. And that he paid for it. He probably figures that his was $1.69, and mine was the 75 cents. Yet he couldn't even pick up two scratchers for me. The pettiness astounds me.

And I'm not talking about myself.