I Cain't Have Nothin' Of My Own

Farmer H came home unexpectedly on Wednesday, around 1:45.

"What's that motor running?"

"The tractor."

"Why are you in here with it running?"

"I've gotta get HOS something to drink. He's dying." 

"How are you going to do that?"

Because, you see, FRIG II's ice maker is still not working. I buy a bag of ice in town. We're almost out right now. And we only have Solo cups to take water outside to the tractor. Farmer H opened up FRIG II.

"Here's a bottle of water right here."

FARMER H GRABBED MY BOTTLE OF WATER!

"Um. NO. That's MY water. It's half empty. I take it to town every day. I put more in when it's empty. I've had it for months."

"Huh. I ain't never seen you with it."

He held it in his hands, peering into it. The bottle was only half full.

"I had it with me YESTERDAY in the Acadia with you, on our way to vote!"

"Huh. I don't know what you're yelling at me for."

"Because I can't have anything of my own around here! Not even a months-old half-bottle of already-drank water!"

Farmer H reached right beside my water, and picked up two bottles. One Sprite, and one Diet Mountain Dew. They were makeshift water bottles that I'd been filling for him since his surgery. He took them outside for himself and HOS. I don't know why that wasn't his first choice. He drinks out of them regularly, and sets them on the kitchen counter when empty. Because he can't fill them himself, apparently. But I DO wash them out before refilling.

The nerve of that guy!

He left, complaining that I always yell at him. Forgetting that when I don't yell, he says he can't hear me.