JOHN'S FUNNY

 PUSH CART

"You want to push the cart, or shall I?"  John asked me as we entered Wal-Mart.

It should be a simple trip for detergent, and a trash can.  But it turns into much more.

"Sure, I'll do it,"  I said.

The blue handled shopping cart was wayward.  It wanted to go left all the time.  The front left wheel had a tendency to veer off the chosen path right into the center island display of Honey Nuts and Kaboom!  

I complained, "Why'd you pick this one?  It's terrible."  We were all the way down the main aisle, no turning back now.  

He laughed.

"It's better than 90%.  Some of 'em are so bad you'd just rather pick 'em up and carrry 'em with you!"

BIG WORDS

"John, are you in the kitchen?"  I was trying to discover if he was anywhere near.

"Yes, I am."

"Do you know the word perspicacity?  

"Don't think so."

"Any clue how to spell it or what it means?"

His mother, as smart as she was, especially about all things financial, mispelled a word that embarrassed him as a child.  She never finished school, only went up to 8th grade, but later in life, around the age of 40, she got her GED.  

In elementery school he had a jar with an amphibian in it on which she'd written it's species.  When he got to class they laughed telling him that toad wasn't spelled T, O, D, E.  Ever since he's made sure he knows how to spell all words.  So I was curious about this one, and wondered what he'd say.

He was quick.  He had a ready reply.

"Don't ask me these big words and expect an answer."

POLITICAL VIDEO

I wanted to show John a video on Facebook of our Vice President changing points of view.  So, I asked him to sit next to me while I brought it up.  He said he didn't want to hear it.  I asked, "Two of your sons shared and re-posted it.  Are you sure?"

He replied, "I'd rather listen to a bird tweet!"

PICK POCKET

Coming up behind John, I noticed his new jeans had a button on the right rear pocket.  "Want me to button your pocket?" I asked.

He'd just shared a few dollars with me, I knew how much cash he had, "You know, if ever someone stole your wallet they'd be shockingly disappointed."

Always he's quick with the wit, "I'd have to write 'em a check -- "Can you not cash that until Friday?"

"Mr. Bays? Let's see your credit card."

 

Ri-i-ing!

"Mr. Bays?"

"Yes, this is Mr. Bays."

"Yes, sir, would you come back to the credit union, please?  Yes, thank you.  We need you to sign your application paper, it's ready now.  And, btw, your wife says she received a phone call about your credit card.   We'll check into that, too, while you're here."

Foregoing the haircut he was in line to get, he walks back to the credit union.

Opens a glass double door, steps around the corner to the desk of Miss Maylee, and sits down.  

Very nicely the orange 6 ft. distancing circles have been removed from the floor, but the plexiglas partition still remains.  He's sitting down on one side, she's smiling from the other.  Keyboard clicks and clatters.  Her eyes and mind are computing.

She asks him to confirm his date of birth.

"January xx, 19xx"

She asks him to recite his social security. 

He does this by heart, "3xx-666-xxx9."

Miss Maylee, upon bringing up all the particulars on his credit card account onto her computer screen, asks to see the card while holding out her hand to receive it.

All of this he tells me over the phone, how he'd checked his account online just minutes earlier.   And that he told her that there was no fraud.  Immediately she says, "Oh, yes there was!" and here he uses his fake whiny baby crying voice, "SHE CUT IT UP!"

"I was gonna get a haircut, and she pulled out her scissors and CUT UP MY CREDIT CARD!"

CHASE THE ROACH!

Chase the roach!

Kill bug dead!

The Raid commercial whizzed through my head.

Did you know the word roach has about 5 meanings?

Besides the insect, there's the hairstyle & hair clips, the cut of a sail, a freshwater fish, and a marijuana cigarette.  Here's pictures of three:

  

Sunday night I chased a live one.  I mean I hunted him down like a hound dog on caffeine!  I even woke John up.

It was about an inch and a half long, flat, shiny brown, long feelers, and flying. Ugh, it was an Indiana flying wood roach!

We've had about 4 roaches since we lived here.  That's not bad for 34 years, right?  That's about 1 every 8 years, chuckle, guess they know better.  

Usually this kind comes from having wood stacked in the garage for the woodstove.  This one was a surprise since we're not using the woodstove.  It's summertime (remember that song, "Summertime and the livin' is easy"?  But I digress), and the temps have been in the '70's, so no use of wood. The roach of which I speak must've come in through the loose seal around the upstairs bedroom air conditioner unit.  That's the only explanation. 

Anyway...ANYWAY, I felt something feather-like tickle my cheek.  Didn't think too much of it.  We have been struggling with stink bugs.  

At night stink bugs like to zzzzzzzip around the room and sometimes land near me, then I wrap them in a piece of toilet paper and flush.  You better not squish 'em, or even hold 'em too tight, because they'll emit a stench that you'll hate.  Besides it will attract other stink bugs, a come hither call to mates.  I flicked it away.

Sitting there in the dark, hubby lightly snoring, a/c making it's condenser noises, fingers clicking the keyboard, I see by the light of my screen that there's a long winged amber bug crawling on my armrest.  

First thought, "BUG!  GET HIM!"

Second thought came zipper fast, "What IS that thing, can it be a roach!?"

I tried to smack the crap out of him.  I missed.  He zinged off.

This is not going to happen.  Not in my house.  He is not getting away.  Those durn things can procreate asexually.  

I began turning on lights.  I hunted up a flashlight from the den.  I shined it everywhere I could think a bug would hide.  Poor hubby.   He stirred, "Wha...a....a....?"  Then, it dawned on me, that bug was attracted to the light of my laptop.

So, I shut off all the lights except one.  The one in the bathroom. 

And I pulled the door almost shut, leaving it open enough so he could see light and he could get in.  To give him time I went downstairs to get a drink of water, and prayed.  You know, in a dastardly situation like this when you really have no control, the Good Lord who made these things and knows how they operate is the one to call.  Not Terminix.  So here I am, drinking and praying, (get it, drinking, praying, LOL), "Lord, let me find and kill this bug.  It looked like a roach and I can't have roaches in my house.  They're just too gross.  And too pervasive."  

Usually, I tell a spider, ant, stink bug, or fly, "If you'd have stayed outside, you could've lived.  But you didn't, so you can't" and it's Squished, Deadsville, USA for him.  

My aunt lived in town and she had a lightning bolt ignited house fire.  Firemen and water hoses ruined the upstairs, and the kitchen.  Everything from stove to dishes, furniture to linens, got drug out to the backyard. Well, she had roaches.  And they crawled everywhere and came out of places you'd never believe.  It was horrible.  After that I swore I'd never let a roach live in my house.  This one had to die.

When I came back upstairs, sure enough he was crawling on the trim near the ceiling light.  Looking to heaven, I mouthed, "Thank you."  

My mind yelled, "I've got 'im!"

First attempt failed.  He saw me coming and knew I was short and just scooted aside.  Second attempt failed, too, but by gum, the third would not!  Or so I thought.  

Nothing long handled was within reach, so I settled for the toilet bowl brush.  

Raise it high, to the sky, "Toilet bowl brush, to exfinity and beyo...I mean...to the rescue!"

I'm a good little housekeeper.  I swish the toilet almost every day.  The toilet bowl brush was still wet.  I never gave that a thought.  Up went the brush, stab, poke, whack, stab again!  Down came the bug?  No.  Down came water!  

Water?  Where'd that come from?  My brain's slow, but it works, I put two and two together and got, "Oh, no-o-o, GRO-O-OSS!"

Me, stalled and wigged-out.  The roach?  Well, he made a run ... fly for it.

Where'd he go.  I did circles in the little bathroom trying to locate the creature.

Then I found him making circles -- between my bare feet.  "Oh, no-o-o, GRO-O-OSS!"

He was maimed.  "Tough luck, little nut, you're flushed."

What an irritant!  DH was tryng to sleep, my computer fun was interrupted, bedtime got delayed, and besides all that, there was the underlying dread that I wouldn't find him.

Nothing like a plan of action, and a final sense of satisfaction.

Chase the Roach!

Kill bug dead!