Just when you think there's nothing left to break or clutter-up, because they're already broken and cluttered... The Pony comes along.
As I've mentioned, I give him a daily lottery ticket. He likes to scratch them at the cutting block while I'm trying to do other things in the kitchen. Like get ice for my magical elixir, with the way blocked by The Pony's rumpus as he leans over the cutting block, or sits on the one stool (out of 4 possible) that is directly in front of FRIG II.
Thursday, I turned from the kitchen sink to dry my hands with the paper towel that I leave on the corner of the cutting block. You know those commercials where the young professionals are turning into their parents? I think it's for some insurance company. Anyhoo... I'm like one of those commercial characters. Even though I'm neither young, nor professional. I am turning into my mom.
Mom used to leave paper towels all over the house. I'd find them here and there, in her home, and in the Mansion when she came to visit. Not a WHOLE paper towel, mind you! A Bounty Select-A-Size... torn in half! Mom was thrifty. She was a child of the Great Depression.
I'm not quite that bad. Sure, I do tear my Select-A-Size paper towels in half, down in my lair. That's all I need for my dinner napkins. But upstairs, I'll use a whole Select-A-Size to dry my hands after washing. However... I save them. I lay the paper towel down on the cutting block. It dries. Then I can used it again. My hands are clean, you know after washing. It's just clean water that I dry on them. Some of those paper towels can last me a WEEK!
Not the one on Thursday! As I reached with drippy hands, I saw that my recyclable paper towel was COVERED WITH SCRATCHER SHAVINGS!
"Pony! I can't believe you did that! I was going to use it again."
"Well, now you're not!"
The Pony picked up my paper towel. I assumed he was going to shake off the shavings in the wastebasket, and put it back on the cutting block. Nope. HE SHOVED MY PAPER TOWEL DOWN IN THE TRASH! Into the container that held his Dairy Queen pretzel sticks, which are coated with butter, and leave a greasy spot on the waxed paper that lines the cardboard container.
"PONY! What are you DOING?"
"I threw it away. It had shavings all over it. Here. Have a new one."
With that, The Pony ripped off a new paper towel, from the roll he had brought back when moving home from his college apartment.
The Pony has a long way to go before he turns into ME.
3 comments:
Why don't you keep track of these stories? They'll make a wonderful anthology.
The Summer of The Pony
The Summer The Pony Pushed Me Over the Edge
The Pony's Trail of Destruction
The Pony and His Bountiful Butter
I'm sure you can come up with much better titles...
I keep a small hand towel in the kitchen, hanging on a hook and use that to dry clean water off my freshly washed hands, after a week it goes in the wash and I hang up a clean one. Those towels will last me many years as opposed to your one week paper towel. And it's no extra trouble, since I already have to do a load of laundry every week anyway.
Sioux,
It's shaping up to be like The Summer of George. Such high expectations... Except I'm the biggest loser, and not The Pony.
The Pony Puts a Foot Wrong (On My Remote Control)
The Pony Tramples My Heart (and Home)
They Boot Ponies, Don't They? (For Crimes Against Hillmombity)
The Dread Pony (unpublished work of John Steinbeck)
***
River,
Well, that would make too much sense! Like cooking my own meals instead of complaining about Hardee's and the Country Mart Deli.
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