Sweet Gummi Mary! Can I not have a single day without Farmer H trying to kill me??? On Wednesday, it was by heart attack!
Perhaps you remember that I stay up through the night, dozing sometimes on the couch, and then hit the bed around 11:00 or noon for some horizontal slumber. And that I do not cotton to entertaining in the morning hours when I am in my lay-about clothes with a messy lovely lady-mullet.
I had gone to the kitchen around 10:15, to take my medicine. I fired up HIPPIE to check the Country Mart weekly sale ad. Huh. No sale ad this week. Just "store specials." Which in their case, probably means soon-to-expire foods.
THE FRONT DOOR OPENED, AND IN CAME FARMER H AND OLD BUDDY!!!
What in the Not-Heaven? Why was Farmer H bringing Old Buddy into the Mansion? I heard Farmer H grunt, and Old Buddy say, "This way?" Then Farmer H came to the kitchen. What ensued was a whispered tongue-lashing.
"What do you think you're doing? I could have been on the toilet with the door not closed! I could have been walking around in my holey sweatpants!"
"Old Buddy had to poop."
"You couldn't warn me? A call or text to say you were coming in? How hard is that?"
"I thought you'd hear us on the porch."
"What good would THAT do? You think I can jump up and run into the bedroom? It takes me five minutes to stand up and loosen my knees!"
"Huh. Well. He had to poop."
Not a good enough excuse to excuse Farmer H's negligence in warning me that I was about to get a visitor. AND when Farmer H heard Old Buddy stirring, he went straight to the front door, not giving him a backwards glance, and went out! Leaving Old Buddy at the bathroom door, saying
"I'm just going to leave this light and fan on for a few minutes..."
THEN Old Buddy moseyed towards the front door, but made sure to pause and look into the kitchen and say, "Good morning!"
Of course I had to respond with my own "Good morning," even though I was not having one!
Have you ever heard of a more inconsiderate lout than Farmer H? He kept telling me it was not a big deal. Maybe I should parade a group of old ladies through the bedroom as he lies sprawled in his tighty-whities.
It's not that I am trying to put on airs and sell myself as better than Old Buddy. I just don't like being ambushed when I'm not ready to present myself to the world. I'm sure he won't think less of me... after all, his woman drank 8 Miller Lite tallboys.
4 comments:
He really should warn you when he knows full well that you like to be presentable.
Me? I don't care so much, I recently opened the door to a horde of policemen while wearing only a towel and dripping water (I'd heard the loud knocking while in the shower) then asked them to wait while I dressed. They did and then we all discovered the person they were looking for doesn't live here.
River,
I agree! A warning is not too much to ask.
Wow! You lead such an exciting life!
Men are not considerate of others, just as a general rule. My son is the exception that proves the rule! As everyone knows I talk to my pets and at times will suddenly burst into song. On one suck occasion, I was totally unaware that the locked door of th office had been opened by HeWho to admit a prospective customer. I was playing with Sweet Emmy Lou, the 6 lb dachshund. I had taught her to say "I love you" to me and was asking her if she could sing. I opened my mouth wide and sort of hit all the highest notes of the "Looney Tunes" theme. Then I heard a strange man ask my husband if the TV just came on by itself. My idiot husband told him it was his wife singing to the dogs. Threw me under the bus, he did! He could have easily said the dog sat on the remote, but didn't. So, if I make use of his more stupid acts on my blog, he has no one to blame but himself!
Kathy,
At least he only heard you, and couldn't associate your face with the singing!
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