He Said - by Blaine Staat
If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. That’s why I’m presently pushing this shopping cart down the grocery aisle. Shopping is so easy-peasy it’s ridiculous. And yet Catherine seems to struggle with it a LOT.
I just can’t figure out why she has so much trouble bringing home quality groceries. You know, real “straight from the farm” stuff that can be used to make good, healthy, sit down dinners at a properly set coffee table in front of the TV.
Oh look, Red Baron Supreme pizzas are on sale for $6.99 each. Well, well, well, a tantalizing price and all four food groups in one shot. I’ll take 6, thank you very much.
See how easy that was? Catherine, on the other hand, likes to buy things called “greens”, which take up a lot of space in the fridge and block your access to the cheesecake, much like the one I’m now putting in the cart at only $15.95.
Hey, you can’t make it for that.
Plus, there’s a lot of impulse buying when Catherine shops, even though I constantly reinforce to her that she needs to stick to the shopping list that I’ve been considerate enough to carefully review for her.
Wow! Check this out; a 2-pack of WD-40! One for the house and one for . . . well, the other part of the house.
Catherine will say - of course - that I “already have 3 cans of WD-40”, but she doesn’t know where they are any more than I do. Oh, hang on a minute, I’m at the cereal aisle. This could take a bit . . . . [time lapse] . . . . okay, I’m back.
You know, it’s amazing how much physical space 9 boxes of cereal takes up; I hardly have any room left in the cart. I guess it’s difficult to stuff all those vitamins & minerals into small packages, but hey, I love my kids, and I want them to be healthy, even if that means I have to do without something that I would like.
Like a couple bags of these powdered donuts which I happen to have just enough room for.
Well, that’s it. I’m done. See how easy that was? And how fast? Just one more little stop on the way to the checkout counter; my keen eyes happened to notice that they have Little Debbies on sale for only a buck a box. Can I spot the bargains or what?
Think I’ll pick up a few.
Of each kind.
Catherine would object, of course, but that’s why I didn’t bring her with me. And before any of you ladies point a finger, raise an eyebrow, or give me an “a-ha”, I promise you, these delicious individually wrapped snack cakes will be used for medicinal purposes only.
She Said - by Catherine Staat
Having one of “those” kind of days, I was relieved when Blaine offered to help out by running to the grocery store to pick up a few essentials, but there is always a bit of trepidation when I hand over the list to him because I never know what he will bring back along with the milk, bread, eggs, and cereal.
One huge spending area in any family’s budget is groceries. Blaine and I have sat down on several occasions, going over our family budget and finding ways to cut out the non-essentials. Being that I do most of the grocery shopping for the family, this is one way I can help with saving money.
I try to make sure that we stay away from “junk food”, as those tend to be the biggest cost items. I make sure I have a list before I go and follow it strictly, knowing what we will need for the week and buying only what we need.
I carefully chart out the menu items for the week and take into consideration that we can use leftovers from one night and remake them into something new for another night…again trying to conserve where I can, but without jeopardizing my family’s health in the process. Careful consideration not only goes into the grocery budget, but also in making sure everyone is getting a well balanced diet.
I take this job of grocery shopping very seriously! I also take my time reading labels and checking prices to see where I can get my best deals, which can often take well over an hour to do. Before heading to the store, I double check with Blaine to find out if there is anything more we may need to add to the list. He gives the list a once over and tells me that everything looks good and off I go with budget on my mind and list in hand.
It makes me wonder then when Blaine goes into the store and forgets our many discussions regarding our budget or his telling me how we need to “buckle down” on extra expenditures and only purchase items that we need.
I also remember the Need Vs. Want conversation. Did he forget how much those extra trips to the grocery can cost us without the list, or how he showed me on the computer – complete with graphs & charts - our spending habits and how those side trips are the biggies in our budget?
No, he won’t remember that until we go over the budget again next month, and he won’t remember that he was the one who went to the store and bought all of those said “extras.” He will however, again remind me that we need to “buckle down” some more, and that I need to be careful about buying items we really don’t need. I think Blaine just becomes like the kid in a candy store.
~ sigh ~ What is a mother . . .err . . . I mean, a wife, to do?!
Showing posts with label He Said / She Said. Show all posts
Showing posts with label He Said / She Said. Show all posts
Friday, August 21, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
He Said / She Said - The Car
He Said - by Blaine Staat
Catherine has this thing about me working on the car. I don’t get it. She’ll walk into the garage and see me working - tools and parts spread out all over the place in logically oriented random piles - and she’ll cringe, do an about face, and walk back inside.
Hey! What’s the big deal? I used to fix nuclear power plants in the Navy, how hard can this be? I’m in my garage – a state of Zen – the cans of paint on the shelves and my Scotts Speedy Green 3000 rotary fertilizer spreader with foam handgrips hanging on the wall having a robust Feng Shui effect on my mind. I am man, the hunter. I am becoming one with my car.
And sometimes becoming one with my car means that I have to completely disassemble the entire dashboard. Hmm. That’s an interesting looking metal . . . thing. I wonder where it came from?
See, my car is 37 years old. It needs me. I have to love it and become intimately familiar with . . . uh, oh. I’m gonna need the most dreaded “special tool” to take this piece off. I told Catherine I needed that. But nooo, we needed to buy groceries. No matter. I can get that thing off with my ViseGrips no sweat.
Anyway, like I was saying, I don’t see why she gets all upset when I do this. I’m good at it. In fact, I could have saved - ouch! that hurt - those GM engineers a lot of money, because I’m constantly finding things that they put in that don’t need to be there.
I kid you not. Every time I finish a job, I always wind up with a few parts left over. Springs, screws, weird shaped metal things. Obviously they aren’t too important or I would’ve installed them somewhere when I put everything back together. I’ve got a whole box of that stuff.
Alright, alright, I’ll be right there!
Okay, I gotta go. Catherine wants me to put the washing machine back together. I guess the laundry needs to be done “right this very exact second”. I told her I’d get around to it. She can be so impatient.
She Said - by Catherine Staat
Okay…let’s back up a bit here (hitting the reverse button). There I was going about my day checking things off my “To Do” list. Things are running pretty smoothly – everything is in order and being done in an orderly fashion. Life is good until…(insert the sound of a car putting on its brakes)!
It was as if walking through the door, from the laundry room into our garage, became some type of portal into another world. We go from peace, tranquility and order to what looked as if the whole car was picked up, turned upside down and shaken for its lunch money!
Parts, pieces, gizmos and gadgets littered on the garage floor and half of my husband’s body is being gobbled by the hood of the car! Not a pretty picture let me tell you (the parts and pieces part of it that is)! It was down right scary. May I also add that there tools of every shape and size imaginable along with not just one but two – TWO - car repair manuals. Oh yeah…
Blaine is a very organized person. He is what you would call a B.O.; that is, “Born Organized”. He has a place for everything. When we go on trips he has this natural talent of getting everything into the car and still have room for us to sit comfortably. The man has an uncanny ability to make things fit and find spaces you would never have thought of. He had plenty of practice when our four children were under the age of 10 – back then when we had a small Geo Prism to fit us all in.
So when I walk into the twilight zone…err…I mean, the garage, it tends to be a bit disarming at first knowing my husband as I do. Another thing that goes through my head is all those parts and pieces and is he going to be able to put them all back as Blaine is thumbing through his car repair manual trying to figure out what is what and where does it go exactly! One more thought…how much is this going to cost us?
So after walking through the door, my brakes go on and I do a quick turnaround right back to my nicely organized little world and pretend I didn’t see a thing!
Catherine has this thing about me working on the car. I don’t get it. She’ll walk into the garage and see me working - tools and parts spread out all over the place in logically oriented random piles - and she’ll cringe, do an about face, and walk back inside.
Hey! What’s the big deal? I used to fix nuclear power plants in the Navy, how hard can this be? I’m in my garage – a state of Zen – the cans of paint on the shelves and my Scotts Speedy Green 3000 rotary fertilizer spreader with foam handgrips hanging on the wall having a robust Feng Shui effect on my mind. I am man, the hunter. I am becoming one with my car.
And sometimes becoming one with my car means that I have to completely disassemble the entire dashboard. Hmm. That’s an interesting looking metal . . . thing. I wonder where it came from?
See, my car is 37 years old. It needs me. I have to love it and become intimately familiar with . . . uh, oh. I’m gonna need the most dreaded “special tool” to take this piece off. I told Catherine I needed that. But nooo, we needed to buy groceries. No matter. I can get that thing off with my ViseGrips no sweat.
Anyway, like I was saying, I don’t see why she gets all upset when I do this. I’m good at it. In fact, I could have saved - ouch! that hurt - those GM engineers a lot of money, because I’m constantly finding things that they put in that don’t need to be there.
I kid you not. Every time I finish a job, I always wind up with a few parts left over. Springs, screws, weird shaped metal things. Obviously they aren’t too important or I would’ve installed them somewhere when I put everything back together. I’ve got a whole box of that stuff.
Alright, alright, I’ll be right there!
Okay, I gotta go. Catherine wants me to put the washing machine back together. I guess the laundry needs to be done “right this very exact second”. I told her I’d get around to it. She can be so impatient.
She Said - by Catherine Staat
Okay…let’s back up a bit here (hitting the reverse button). There I was going about my day checking things off my “To Do” list. Things are running pretty smoothly – everything is in order and being done in an orderly fashion. Life is good until…(insert the sound of a car putting on its brakes)!
It was as if walking through the door, from the laundry room into our garage, became some type of portal into another world. We go from peace, tranquility and order to what looked as if the whole car was picked up, turned upside down and shaken for its lunch money!
Parts, pieces, gizmos and gadgets littered on the garage floor and half of my husband’s body is being gobbled by the hood of the car! Not a pretty picture let me tell you (the parts and pieces part of it that is)! It was down right scary. May I also add that there tools of every shape and size imaginable along with not just one but two – TWO - car repair manuals. Oh yeah…
Blaine is a very organized person. He is what you would call a B.O.; that is, “Born Organized”. He has a place for everything. When we go on trips he has this natural talent of getting everything into the car and still have room for us to sit comfortably. The man has an uncanny ability to make things fit and find spaces you would never have thought of. He had plenty of practice when our four children were under the age of 10 – back then when we had a small Geo Prism to fit us all in.
So when I walk into the twilight zone…err…I mean, the garage, it tends to be a bit disarming at first knowing my husband as I do. Another thing that goes through my head is all those parts and pieces and is he going to be able to put them all back as Blaine is thumbing through his car repair manual trying to figure out what is what and where does it go exactly! One more thought…how much is this going to cost us?
So after walking through the door, my brakes go on and I do a quick turnaround right back to my nicely organized little world and pretend I didn’t see a thing!
Monday, June 15, 2009
He Said / She Said - Landscaping
He Said - by Blaine Staat
I’m just full of good advice. Here’s some for all of you eligible young bachelors: Before you get married, make sure that you take a real close look at those vows your blushing bride will be making to you, and if, along with the “to have and to hold’s” and the “for richer & for poorer’s”, you don’t see the words “promise to keep my little grub-hooks off your yard”, make sure that you get them added in before she starts walking down the aisle.
I know, I know, you would think that that concept is simply implied along with all the other words about her “love” and her “devotion” and all that other jazz. Any reasonable man would. But alas, my friend, we’re not talking about “reason”, we’re talking about “woman”, and once your new bride is done throwing all of your stuff out of the house (a blindingly fast process in it’s own right) she will soon move into your domain. The backyard.
Last year Catherine planted – and this is absolutely no exaggeration – exactly 4,723 “things” in the yard. As if that’s not bad enough, let me also fill you in on what I must assume is her “landscape planning procedure”, which is basically to walk around aimlessly before suddenly thinking “Oh, this looks like a good spot for something”, at which point the evil dagger of her shovel bludgeons it’s way through my pristine lawn so that some sickly thing that looks like a dead stick can try to take root.
Oh! And does she get all snippy with me when I tell her very nicely to take her shoes off and get back in the kitchen? You know it brother! All tears, and boo-hoo-hoo, and “you’re so mean to me, I was only trying to make our yard look nice”. Did I shed a tear when she took down my vintage Farrah-Fawcett poster - framed, no less – from our bedroom wall and gave it to Goodwill? Okay, okay, maybe that’s not a real good example, but still . . . you know what I mean.
I don’t think it’s too much to ask of her to just leave my yard alone, especially when you consider how much I do for her. I mean, if I see garbage overflowing from the trash can onto the kitchen floor, do I not take it out? You betcha I do. Almost every single time. And do I not put most of my dirty clothes in the laundry hamper? Hello! Yes. And do I not rinse out my dishes before I stack them on the counter simply to make it easier for her to load the dishwasher?
Yup. Yup, yup, yup.
What women don’t seem to realize is that whenever something is placed in the yard, you must then mow around it. This takes effort, which is why I usually just push the mower straight over it instead. It’s not a personal attack, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you, and yes, I’m sure that whatever it was that you planted would have been beautiful had I let it live, but it was just easier not to.
Sometimes a man has to take a stand. That’s why I do hereby boldly proclaim to the world that my yard belongs to me and ME ONLY! It’s mine, d’ya hear? Mine! Mine! Mine! I don’t care what you want to plant; I’m not going to do it. Don’t wanna, ain’t gonna, can’t make me. So there.
Now quit acting like a big baby and just accept it.
There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? All that’s left to do now is to let Catherine know where I stand on this issue, and as soon as she comes home from the grocery store, I’m going to tell her the exact same thing. You just better believe I will too. Pretty soon after she gets back. Maybe after dinner.
Or tomorrow.
She Said - by Catherine Staat
Well! I think that 4,723 “things” is a slight exaggeration, but okay, I’ll go with that for just a moment (some advice for soon-to-be brides: we sometimes let our guys think the way they want to, but only temporarily mind you!). When we moved here to Kentucky, I was so very excited at the prospects of what we would be able to grow; having the opportunity to plant my absolute favorites (and I’m sure Blaine’s as well once he sees just how much they please his loving and devoted wife) in a garden that was not possible to have living in the central part of Florida.
Learning what will grow here as opposed to Florida has been a learning lesson, and, as with the inside of my home, I wish the outside to also reflect who we are as a family. Much care is taken in the planning of one’s garden, or what I like to call my own personal “Claude Monet's garden at Giverny” or “Jefferson's Monticello: The West Lawn”. Since these beautiful gardens are not a hop, skip and a jump from us here, I will try and bring a little bit of them right into my…err…our backyard.
~Sigh~ I think of how things can possibly look one day when we will be able to sit back and enjoy the view and really appreciate all 4,723 things that we so carefully and lovingly planted. And to my wide eyed and green behind the ears young bachelor friends…my husband does enjoy our Monticello “West Lawn in the making”, and not only that, but also the compliments we have received in how the yard is shaping up.
As gardeners, we need to carefully consider the amount of sunlight each individual plant requires along with soil properties, and if they like their feet (roots) wet or dry. Is this plant suited for the intense heat of the afternoon sun, or would it be better planted elsewhere to give it shade and protection? Do we not show this very same consideration for our husbands in caring for them and their needs as well? Absolutely! We wouldn’t just throw them a plate of food without giving some consideration to his needs and requirements! Aimless wandering? Oh no, no!
Another consideration - and one that a wife does need to be tuned in to - is the mowing of the lawn; specifically, whether or not the plants you have lovingly laid into the soil will be mowed over by a husband who is really only thinking of getting the yard work done in time to watch “the game” at 1 p.m.! I have lost many a precious plant due to this so called “mishap”. Did Blaine really not realize that the rare bulb sprouting up from the ground - or the hard to start & grow Clematis vine that was so heinously attacked by the weed whacker - were actually not weeds at all? Mishap?
Ohhhh, I think not! In fact, most of those 4,723 things that my husband - who loves and is as devoted to me as I am to him - mentioned earlier are actually re-plantings of the very things that he mowed over and weed whacked away in the first place, despite my attempts to mark them with bright red and yellow tags. And that “dead looking stick” that he is so quick to assume is not alive will soon grow into a beautiful River Birch Tree that will grace our yard with years of beauty and much needed shade.
So you see, I do give great consideration for Blaine and his soon-to-be beautiful domain. I would never think of taking over this area with my…what was that again? Little grub-hooks? Would these be the same “little grub-hooks” that so lovingly and devotedly take care of you?! Hmmm…
I’m just full of good advice. Here’s some for all of you eligible young bachelors: Before you get married, make sure that you take a real close look at those vows your blushing bride will be making to you, and if, along with the “to have and to hold’s” and the “for richer & for poorer’s”, you don’t see the words “promise to keep my little grub-hooks off your yard”, make sure that you get them added in before she starts walking down the aisle.
I know, I know, you would think that that concept is simply implied along with all the other words about her “love” and her “devotion” and all that other jazz. Any reasonable man would. But alas, my friend, we’re not talking about “reason”, we’re talking about “woman”, and once your new bride is done throwing all of your stuff out of the house (a blindingly fast process in it’s own right) she will soon move into your domain. The backyard.
Last year Catherine planted – and this is absolutely no exaggeration – exactly 4,723 “things” in the yard. As if that’s not bad enough, let me also fill you in on what I must assume is her “landscape planning procedure”, which is basically to walk around aimlessly before suddenly thinking “Oh, this looks like a good spot for something”, at which point the evil dagger of her shovel bludgeons it’s way through my pristine lawn so that some sickly thing that looks like a dead stick can try to take root.
Oh! And does she get all snippy with me when I tell her very nicely to take her shoes off and get back in the kitchen? You know it brother! All tears, and boo-hoo-hoo, and “you’re so mean to me, I was only trying to make our yard look nice”. Did I shed a tear when she took down my vintage Farrah-Fawcett poster - framed, no less – from our bedroom wall and gave it to Goodwill? Okay, okay, maybe that’s not a real good example, but still . . . you know what I mean.
I don’t think it’s too much to ask of her to just leave my yard alone, especially when you consider how much I do for her. I mean, if I see garbage overflowing from the trash can onto the kitchen floor, do I not take it out? You betcha I do. Almost every single time. And do I not put most of my dirty clothes in the laundry hamper? Hello! Yes. And do I not rinse out my dishes before I stack them on the counter simply to make it easier for her to load the dishwasher?
Yup. Yup, yup, yup.
What women don’t seem to realize is that whenever something is placed in the yard, you must then mow around it. This takes effort, which is why I usually just push the mower straight over it instead. It’s not a personal attack, it doesn’t mean I don’t love you, and yes, I’m sure that whatever it was that you planted would have been beautiful had I let it live, but it was just easier not to.
Sometimes a man has to take a stand. That’s why I do hereby boldly proclaim to the world that my yard belongs to me and ME ONLY! It’s mine, d’ya hear? Mine! Mine! Mine! I don’t care what you want to plant; I’m not going to do it. Don’t wanna, ain’t gonna, can’t make me. So there.
Now quit acting like a big baby and just accept it.
There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? All that’s left to do now is to let Catherine know where I stand on this issue, and as soon as she comes home from the grocery store, I’m going to tell her the exact same thing. You just better believe I will too. Pretty soon after she gets back. Maybe after dinner.
Or tomorrow.
She Said - by Catherine Staat
Well! I think that 4,723 “things” is a slight exaggeration, but okay, I’ll go with that for just a moment (some advice for soon-to-be brides: we sometimes let our guys think the way they want to, but only temporarily mind you!). When we moved here to Kentucky, I was so very excited at the prospects of what we would be able to grow; having the opportunity to plant my absolute favorites (and I’m sure Blaine’s as well once he sees just how much they please his loving and devoted wife) in a garden that was not possible to have living in the central part of Florida.
Learning what will grow here as opposed to Florida has been a learning lesson, and, as with the inside of my home, I wish the outside to also reflect who we are as a family. Much care is taken in the planning of one’s garden, or what I like to call my own personal “Claude Monet's garden at Giverny” or “Jefferson's Monticello: The West Lawn”. Since these beautiful gardens are not a hop, skip and a jump from us here, I will try and bring a little bit of them right into my…err…our backyard.
~Sigh~ I think of how things can possibly look one day when we will be able to sit back and enjoy the view and really appreciate all 4,723 things that we so carefully and lovingly planted. And to my wide eyed and green behind the ears young bachelor friends…my husband does enjoy our Monticello “West Lawn in the making”, and not only that, but also the compliments we have received in how the yard is shaping up.
As gardeners, we need to carefully consider the amount of sunlight each individual plant requires along with soil properties, and if they like their feet (roots) wet or dry. Is this plant suited for the intense heat of the afternoon sun, or would it be better planted elsewhere to give it shade and protection? Do we not show this very same consideration for our husbands in caring for them and their needs as well? Absolutely! We wouldn’t just throw them a plate of food without giving some consideration to his needs and requirements! Aimless wandering? Oh no, no!
Another consideration - and one that a wife does need to be tuned in to - is the mowing of the lawn; specifically, whether or not the plants you have lovingly laid into the soil will be mowed over by a husband who is really only thinking of getting the yard work done in time to watch “the game” at 1 p.m.! I have lost many a precious plant due to this so called “mishap”. Did Blaine really not realize that the rare bulb sprouting up from the ground - or the hard to start & grow Clematis vine that was so heinously attacked by the weed whacker - were actually not weeds at all? Mishap?
Ohhhh, I think not! In fact, most of those 4,723 things that my husband - who loves and is as devoted to me as I am to him - mentioned earlier are actually re-plantings of the very things that he mowed over and weed whacked away in the first place, despite my attempts to mark them with bright red and yellow tags. And that “dead looking stick” that he is so quick to assume is not alive will soon grow into a beautiful River Birch Tree that will grace our yard with years of beauty and much needed shade.
So you see, I do give great consideration for Blaine and his soon-to-be beautiful domain. I would never think of taking over this area with my…what was that again? Little grub-hooks? Would these be the same “little grub-hooks” that so lovingly and devotedly take care of you?! Hmmm…
Monday, May 18, 2009
He Said / She Said - Chivalry
He Said - by Blaine Staat
There I was, reclined in the banquet hall in front of the roaring hearth, feasting on a leg of roast mutton and a stein of ale following an arduous day of riding around the countryside on my noble steed. Content was I in my day’s work of saving maidens, slaying dragons, swinging my sword around a lot, and generally making quite a ruckus as I pursued my chivalric tendencies.
Suddenly, a shrill cry pierces the dusk, and the peace and tranquility of my gluttony is shattered. A damsel in distress!
Woe to be a knight in these dark days; our work forever unfinished. I jumped instantly to my feet and paused only the few merest of seconds to take another couple of bites from that well cooked hunk ‘o meat before I dashed out across the cobblestones to the stable.
My warhorse snorted at my approach, it’s breath a white fog spewing from flared nostrils, and he stamped impatiently at the cold earth. He too knew that evil was yet to be confronted this night.
In moments the hedges, ramparts, and rows were but mere blurs as together we raced towards what peril we knew not; battlecries and the thunder of hooves now issuing an urgent reply to what could only be the fairest of maidens whose fearful plea must place her in the direst of straights indeed.
A corner is turned, a sword unsheathed, and a nemesis so vile as cannot be described is revealed, hideous in countenance and unscrupled in intent. And at it’s mercy, trembling with fright - an angel. A vision so pale and beautiful as to rival a petal from the most delicate of England’s roses.
I say to you now, all who may witness these words, that there may come a day when evil triumphs over the hearts of men, but it will not be this day, and with a cry of Havoc! I charge, and the steel of my blade sings through the night to find mortal purchase in the heart of the beast.
In but moments I am at her side, even as the slain oppressor still writhes in it’s agony, and I lift her fainted body in my arms to spirit her away. After a few steps I hear a ‘pop’ in my lower back and I gently lower her back to her feet, taking instead her arm and assisting her – with much strength and gallantry – back towards the safety of the castle walls.
This is a true story.
She Said- by Catherine Staat
I’m not sure about the “whole fainted body in arms thing”, but…okay that works for me as long as that creepy crawly “nemesis” that has made it’s way within 5 feet of where I’m standing is slain (smooshed). I’m a very happy damsel in distress who will gladly fall into the arms of a gallant and not to mention rather good looking knight.
I hate roaches. Wait, “hate” is a strong word…nope…it fits! Living in Florida, roaches were just a part of life; no matter how much you tried to prevent them they unscrupulously made their way inside. As far as I’m concerned, they are what He Said, “…a nemesis so vile as cannot be described . . . hideous in countenance and unscrupled in intent”, not to mention unwanted, disgusting and just plain gross.
When I see one - and believe you me you will hear me scream from a block away - I cannot rest until it has been obliterated from the face of the earth. Man…another strong word there but I kinda like it…o-b-l-i-t-e-r-a-t-e. (Please see definition number 2 below – That one works for me!
Obliterate: oblit·er·ate
1 : to make undecipherable or imperceptible by obscuring or wearing away
2 a : to remove utterly from recognition or memory b : to remove from existence : destroy utterly all trace, indication, or significance of
The house will be turned upside down until it has been found and destroyed by my very strong and very brave knight in shining armor who has no problem in slaying the oppressor (squishing the intruder). Sometimes it is one of “those” that flies – which are called Palmetto Bugs.
They are still roaches, but far worse! Not only are they roaches with wings – yes, I said wings! - but they are about 2 inches long and always seem to make a beeline right for me! Sounds like something from a science fiction horror movie, but I kid you not these things are HUGE! It might as well be a Cessna! A Cessna that has radar (antenna) and knows where to find me.
Can you tell that I am totally creeped out by them? I’m sure there is much joy and pleasure - by the mini airplane-like creature - in hearing me scream and watching me run like a wild person as I’m hitting myself frantically to get the thing away from me.
Blaine knows that scream all too well. He doesn’t have to ask what it is that I’m screaming about, but quickly comes to my rescue with his oblitteratus (shoe and bug spray) in hand.
Did I mention that the bug spray is the kind you can spray from 20 feet away? Yes, he is a very brave knight indeed. Who wouldn’t be with a range like that?
Please tell me there are no such “things” here in Kentucky!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
