Mysteries of My Universe Part 2
Here are some more questions that have been traipsing through
my head while I should be cleaning up the old Hillbilly Mansion:
When was I elected Disposer-of-Rotten-Fruit? It must have been
soon after my appointment as Thrower-Awayer-of-Empty-Soda-
Cans, and it is hindering my duties as Chief-Picker-Upper-of-
Dirty-Underwear-Lying-on-the-Floor-or-Couch, but is much
more prestigious than my lifetime term as Sniffer-of-Milk-to-See-
if-it-is-Still-Good. Hmm...solved the when, but what makes me
more qualified for this position than the other 3 people in this house?
Do waitresses really think that hovering over your table to snatch
plates that they deem you are finished with, and vacuuming under
your table while you are eating and it is only 12:45 in the afternoon
will get them a better tip?
Why do our cats eat the fish food, the dog eat the cat food, and
a rogue raccoon bend up the handles and remove the lid of a large
plastic trash can to eat the dog food?
How can I let my 7-year-old run free for days, barely paying any
attention to him, and he is fine--yet he is with Hillbilly Grandma
from 6:00 p.m. to 10:00 a.m., and comes home with a knot on
his forehead (he owes HG a flashlight), a scratch on his right cheek,
a deeper scratch on his left shoulder, and a scrape on his left ankle?
Who does that doctor's receptionist think she is, telling me "You
can have a seat, Maam," when I am signing in my name like I am
supposed to and then never call me back up to verifiy insurance
information or take my $20 copay so that after I finally see the
doctor at 12:50 for an 11:00 appointment and the next-appointment-
scheduler-girl doesn't want my check I have to pry open her little
glass window and leave my check totally unattended in her
hermetically sealed little corner of the universe until her lunch
break is over?
Where does Hillbilly Husband get the idea that he can rinse his
plate with food still left on it even though we don't have a garbage
disposal and the imitation crab meat from his Wal-mart Seafood
Salad is too big to go down the drain and that means that I will
have to pick up that wet (gag) food and throw it in the wastebasket?
Enough mysteries already. I feel a rant coming on for tomorrow.
my head while I should be cleaning up the old Hillbilly Mansion:
When was I elected Disposer-of-Rotten-Fruit? It must have been
soon after my appointment as Thrower-Awayer-of-Empty-Soda-
Cans, and it is hindering my duties as Chief-Picker-Upper-of-
Dirty-Underwear-Lying-on-the-Floor-or-Couch, but is much
more prestigious than my lifetime term as Sniffer-of-Milk-to-See-
if-it-is-Still-Good. Hmm...solved the when, but what makes me
more qualified for this position than the other 3 people in this house?
Do waitresses really think that hovering over your table to snatch
plates that they deem you are finished with, and vacuuming under
your table while you are eating and it is only 12:45 in the afternoon
will get them a better tip?
Why do our cats eat the fish food, the dog eat the cat food, and
a rogue raccoon bend up the handles and remove the lid of a large
plastic trash can to eat the dog food?
How can I let my 7-year-old run free for days, barely paying any
attention to him, and he is fine--yet he is with Hillbilly Grandma
from 6:00 p.m. to 10:00 a.m., and comes home with a knot on
his forehead (he owes HG a flashlight), a scratch on his right cheek,
a deeper scratch on his left shoulder, and a scrape on his left ankle?
Who does that doctor's receptionist think she is, telling me "You
can have a seat, Maam," when I am signing in my name like I am
supposed to and then never call me back up to verifiy insurance
information or take my $20 copay so that after I finally see the
doctor at 12:50 for an 11:00 appointment and the next-appointment-
scheduler-girl doesn't want my check I have to pry open her little
glass window and leave my check totally unattended in her
hermetically sealed little corner of the universe until her lunch
break is over?
Where does Hillbilly Husband get the idea that he can rinse his
plate with food still left on it even though we don't have a garbage
disposal and the imitation crab meat from his Wal-mart Seafood
Salad is too big to go down the drain and that means that I will
have to pick up that wet (gag) food and throw it in the wastebasket?
Enough mysteries already. I feel a rant coming on for tomorrow.
posted by Hillbilly Mom @ 12:01 AM
3 Comments:
At 10:22 AM,
Rebecca said…
Hi Hillbilly Mom,
Well I will try again to answer your questions.
1. You are the only person there who can see these things, be thankful that you have no idea what to do with a Playstation, or you too would join them.
2. What waitresses are actually trying to do, is show you that they could be doing the things in questio one, so that you can play Playstation instead.
3. Look on the bright side, at least the animals are getting to this food before your inlaws do. Heck family can eat you out of house and home worse than termites.
4. HG is secretly an FBI agent, she is using your son as a decoy on top secret missions. You will never know the truth about this, because they keep erasing your mind.
5. She thinks she is Elmo, from Sesame Street. Check next time, her feet are furry.
6. HH is not leaving the food there for you, the fish have to eat something because the cat keeps taking their food.
I hope this solves a few things for you.
HooRoo
Bec
At 4:32 PM,
Hillbilly Mom said…
Hey, Bec, thanks for the explanations. I expecially like the one that Hillbilly Grandma is a spy. That would explain a lot of things. Like how growing up, I would be riding in the car right behind her seat, thinking about doing something that she would not approve of, and BAM! She would start talking about that very thing. It was annoying. I was afraid of the thought police. I know people can tell if they are looking at you, but it must have been from the eyes in the back of her head. I only escaped it when I moved 200 miles away for college. And even then, she would call every Sunday morning, and while we were talking would say "Is there someone there?" Hmmm...I wonder what she was insinuating!
At 11:05 PM,
Rachel Croucher said…
some things we'll never know... :-)
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