Fun Fact

Ma does not like Chinese food. When she was a kid, some bright spark told her the meat used was cat meat.

She won't touch Chinese food. She wouldn't even try it when her good friends celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary at a Chinese restaurant.

Weebles Wobble And They Don't Fall Down Is A Lie

I apologize that Whine has been sorely neglected this path month.

One day, Ma decided she had to go to the bank. She had to go to the bank at that very minute. Did she call a taxi? Nope. You have to pay for a taxi and tip the driver to boot. Both Weebles are so tight you can hear them squeak when they walk. Did Ma call moi to let her know she had to get to the bank. Nope. Ma decided to walk. Yup, you heard me in the cheap seats. Ma decided to walk. Dad tried to protest, but in the end walked arm in walker down the street with Ma. Yup,OPD at its finest. All together now: take the palm of your dominant hand and slap it against your forehead.

Have to give the old lady credit, she nearly made it to the bank. She was in sight of the bank when she took her tumble. Weebles wobble and sometimes they fall and can't get up.

A couple of young men happened by and tried to help. I'm sure they wanted to call an ambulance, but Ma insisted she was fine. So they picked her up and helped her to the bank. Ma was not fine and someone from the bank called an ambulance.

So Ma won an all expense paid vacation to the hospital with a few days at a rehab because she dislocated her shoulder.

I thought Dad would be dancing a jig since he would have his own vacation in a Ma free zone.

When I called later in the week to see how the old guy was doing, he sighed heavily on the phone.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm lonely. It's so quiet here without her."

I guess any attention, even negative attention is better than no attention at all.

"Well, I can yell at you like Ma does. I know all the verses to "The Stupid Song."

Not My Monkey

The Weebles recently had a new roof put on their house. I had recommended the company that remodeled our bathroom. The Roofer met with them, and they picked the color shingles they wanted. Fox Run Grey. A light grey.

The Roofer had called and left a message on my voicemail.

"Please call me right away. I have some very bad news." His voice was filled with dread.

I though the roofing crew must have found a weeble dead on the floor. With nervous fingers I dialed the Roofer's number and tried to keep my voice calm as I asked him what had happened.

"The crew was 3/4 of the way finished, when your dad noticed the color of the shingles are charcoal grey and not the light grey they ordered."

I almost laughed out of relief.

The Roofer apologized for his mistake. No one bothered to double check the product shipped was the product ordered.

On one hand no one ever died because the roof was charcoal grey. Afterall, the quality of the shingles or the workmanship was not the issue. The roof would keep the Weebles warm and dry. On the other hand, the roof was "not white." (This is a reference to the issues we had when ordering the white tiles for our bathroom. The only difference is we discovered the problem before the not white tiles were adhered to the walls.)

I think the Roofer was hoping I would make the decision to resolve the problem. The Weebles want a light grey roof. I'm happy the decision is not my monkey.

Pogo

"What happened to you?" asked Himself as I limped into the house.

"It started out as as typical Mahket run. I got a handicap space. Ma got a scooter and I trailed behind her at a safe and respectful distance. We cruised through produce..."

"Were any veggies murdered?"

"No. Though one tomato saw us coming, and he leaped from his heap and ran away."

"You mean he suicided?" Himself sat down getting very interested in the story.

"No, he jumped and ran away. Rolled as fast as he could towards the produce room."

"Okaaay. What happened to you?"

"We had made a first past blessing the meat when Ma decided she wanted to go back to look at the pork."

"I thought Ma didn't eat pork."

"She doesn't but she wanted some sausage for Dad. So she makes a turn around the frozen fish case and parks in front of the sausage case. The nose of her cart is pointing back toward produce. I'm behind the scooter pawing through the packages trying to find a package that's not full of fat but cheap in price when a stock boy comes out of the meat room with a baker's tray filled with pork."

"What's that he got?"

The stock boy stopped near us. "Pork," he said.

"What kind?" asked Ma.

"All kinds", answered the stock boy.

"He starts moving behind me to stock the pork chops. Ma decided she wanted to see what he had on the cart so she thumbs the reverse switch and rammmed into me. I'm backing up and yelling stop, stop. Her thumb is frozen on reverse and she accelerated into me. I then tumble like a domino and into the lap of the stock boy."

Himself is laughing.

"Kinda gave new meaning to porked."

"It's a pogo," Himself managed to get out in between laughs.

"A what?"

"Pogo. Pork one, get one." Himself started to laugh uncontrollably.

The limp should be gone in a few days. I just hope that young man doesn't have to spend a long time in therapy.

Bookworm

No points, but what are the odds?

How do You Spell Stress?

W-E-E-B-L-E-S

Man Posts Parents for Sale on Craigslist

Man posts parents for sale on Craigslist. Maybe he's onto something. Nuff said.