WHERE'S MY CELL PHONE?

I’ve lost my cell phone many times and called it to locate it.  The other day I found it in my makeup drawer.  Obviously a senior moment. 

One time I lost my car keys and the thought passed through my mind that I could just dial them up!  I wouldn’t have heard them ring anyway, because they were in the garbage can in the garage. 

When I’m looking for something, my husband asks, “Where was the last place you saw it?”  Does he really think that question will make me think logically?  I'm sure I didn't my ear muffs when I put them in the pantry.

My niece Lila has probably never heard the expression, “I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached,” but she’s got the idea already at age three.  At the cemetery, her mother told her, “That’s where your great grandmother’s body was buried.”  Lila immediately asked, “Where is her head?!”

HOW TO PLANT POTATOES

I don't have to plant a garden this year.  I remember ordering from garden catalogs and asking myself, "Do I really want to do this again this year?"  My garden usually looked as pitiful as – well – my blog rough drafts.  The difference is that I know how to fix my rough drafts. 

Back in 1978, I believe it was, I almost learned how to garden.  I went along with my best friends, Jackie and Ralph, out to Ralph’s parents’ farm to plant a vegetable garden.  His whole family came to watch.  My first lesson was about potatoes.  You don’t plant potato seeds.

Feeling a little dumb after that lesson, I tried to keep a low profile.  After all, Ralph’s parents thought Ralph himself had become a “city slicker.”  So that put me in the category of a UFO, I guess.

Well, I proceeded to watch the “goings on” in the field.  Ralph and his sister disagreed on how to cut the potatoes.  Then his brother told him how deep to plant them.  Then his brother’s wife, his other brother, his father and his mother voiced some pretty convincing arguments about how and why the potatoes should be cut a certain way, or not cut at all, and why they should be planted at this depth or that one and at exactly what angle, and when to plant them.  (They must have agreed on that one, since we were all in attendance.)

You’ve probably guessed by now that Ralph planted the darn potatoes exactly the way he wanted to, and for many years after that his family talked about the day the city slickers planted a garden.

COURTESY FLUSH

Public bathroom entertainment does exist.  I walked into the stall and took a seat.  I noticed a small sign with tiny letters posted on the door.  Not having Xray eyes, I ignored it.

As I left the stall, I read the sign: “Please help us keep this restroom clean.”  Then I got to the punch line.  You might have seen a sentence like this before, but I live a sheltered life.  “A courtesy flush or two before the final flush will help prevent the toilet from becoming clogged.”  A courtesy flush!  And not just one, but two courtesy flushes.  As if I didn’t get it, it continued with the toilet training lesson:  “The toilet will fully flush if the flush handle is pushed all the way down.  Thankyou!”

I did.  I thanked the sign for a good laugh.  Then I found some paper in my purse and copied it down just for your benefit.  You just never know when proper etiquette might call for a courtesy flush.

 Changing my Husband's Plans

It was Saturday and the Masters Golf Tournament was to be televised from 3:00-7:00.  Third round of four.  We had planned to go to Scotland Neck to visit with his mom and watch the Masters with her.  We were going to get there by 3:00.

George woke up that morning asking, “When are we going to Scotland Neck?”  I told him we would leave at 1:30 so that we could be there by 3:00 to watch the Masters.  He said he thought we were going to be there at 1:30.  I said no, his mother wasn’t expecting us until 3:00.  A few minutes later, he said we had to get ready to leave.  He would not pay attention to my reasoning.  (So what’s new?)

At 10:30 I put our lawn chairs and tarp on the grass and started spray painting.  He paced.  He worried.  He got mad.  I did too, and I told him he just couldn’t stand it if I planned to do two things on the same day.  I said we had three hours before we would leave, and he could get a nap.  He paced more and kept repeating that we needed to leave.  I said, once again, that his Mom expected us at 3:00.  That went right past him.

We left at noon.  He did get his nap after all - during the first two hours of the Masters in his mom’s easy chair.  Serves him right! 

Married Minds

When you’ve been married a long time, you sometimes understand each other.  I found my husband reading my mind this morning when he should have been minding his own business.  I was in the kitchen thinking about something he had done that I was getting over being mad about.  You know how some things infuriate you, but gradually you accept them and get over them?   I have been through the acceptance stage and now I’m in the sarcasm stage and moving toward the get-over-it stage.  In my mind – not out loud - I said something very spiteful.  George walked through the kitchen and said, kind of laughing, “If you live around here you’re going to get a lot of jabs.” 

Geez.  You’d think a woman could fuss in silence and get away with it.  There should be a reward for those moments when a wife chooses not to verbalize, don’t you think?