Friday, March 5, 2021

It's Deja Clue-less All Over Again

Too soon? It's only been one week since I told you about The Pony taking the last three Ritz Crackers out of the box, and LEAVING THE EMPTY BOX ON THE COUNTER! Of course I pointed out the error of his ways. He just forgot, he said. 

You may recall that Farmer H, in one of his many subtle and not-so-subtle attempts to kill me, gifted me with a giant Valentine heart of not-very-good chocolates. For my birthday, along with scratchers, he gave me a bag of assorted DOVE Chocolates. The bag had milk chocolate, dark chocolate, and caramel. 

The Pony likes chocolate. He had his own Valentine heart, brand-name (!), which he ate forthwith. I'm not a chocolate-gorger. Each day when The Pony carried my lunch tray down those 13 rail-less steps, I told him he could have some of my DOVES. I didn't like the caramel kind anyway. So The Pony would have one or two. Not every day. He ate most of the milk chocolate and caramel varieties. 

On Tuesday, I finished the dark chocolate DOVES. Not bad. That bag lasted three weeks! There was one milk chocolate, and one caramel left in the bag. It was on the chair at the bottom of the stairs. When The Pony took my tray down on Wednesday, he said,

"Are there any of your DOVES left that I can have?"

"Yeah. There are two. I was saving them for you."

"Mmm!"

Down the stairs went The Pony, on his young coltish legs. He delivered my tray. I was putting on my SHOE before walking down the steps. I wasn't looking into the stairwell. Up came The Pony, chewing on chocolate. He was empty-handed.

"Did you get both pieces?"

"Yeah. You said I could have them, right?"

"Yes. But I don't see the bag."

"Oh."

"Don't tell me you took the last two pieces of chocolate, and LEFT THE EMPTY BAG ON THE CHAIR!"

"I didn't want to fill up that Walmart bag that you have hanging by your chair."

"Um. You were coming up here, where the main wastebasket is!"

"I just didn't want to carry it upstairs."

"I can't figure out where I went wrong. I'm pretty sure I told you the right thing to do during your formative years. And just last week, I lectured you about the empty Ritz box!"

By now The Pony was reclining in Farmer H's chair, laptop on lap.

"Um. Let's see... wasn't it I who threw away all your empty Puffs boxes in your office?"

"Don't change the subject! They're bulky, and I had to carry up my own trash back then!"

Can you believe the nerve of that little nag?

I guess the DOVE bag is going to live on that chair until I refuse to let The Pony back upstairs without it.

5 comments:

Sioux Roslawski said...

I think you should taunt The Pony with some name brand chocolate soon... and refuse to share with him.

Perhaps that will teach him a lesson...

River said...

Bad Pony! and while I'm dishing out 'bads', are those empty Puffs boxes crushable so you could flatten them to carry upstairs? Can they be nested inside each other to lessen the load? Can you put them in a garbage bag and drag them up the stairs/ Forget that last one, I forgot momentarily about your knees.
Those Dove chocolates wouldn't have lasted more than a week here.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
My previous lessons didn't take! Like a George Costanza shower didn't relieve him of sweating like a shifty criminal, my lessons have not prevented The Pony from being a slob. Maybe I could withhold his daily "charity" scratcher...

***
River,
I will need a whole blog post to respond in detail on the Puffs boxes!

I would like to rest on my laurels, polishing my fingernails on my lapels with pride, basking in praise heaped upon me for letting those DOVES last so long. However... I also had a Valentine heart of plentiful, though not very good, chocolates. As well as FREE fig bar cookies, and FREE animal cookies (still all those floor bags left in the big pantry!) to satisfy a nightly sweet tooth. So it was not such a major accomplishment after all. The DOVES had competitors clamoring for my dessert appetite.

Kathy's Klothesline said...

I am willing to bet that Farmer H would make a pulley system to bring the trash bag up from the basement .... instead of making handrails to provide safety. it would provide more of a challenge, you know!!

Hillbilly Mom said...

Kathy,
Yes, I brought up the dumbwaiter idea a long time ago. As in, "I wish you'd put in a dumbwaiter when you built the basement, so I could take my stuff down easier."

I don't recall the exact response, but it was something like, "You have one. The Pony." Heh, heh. Not bad for Farmer H, born without a funny bone.