Apparently I don’t always pay close attention to what I say or what is going on around me. The old one had a small box in his wallet that intrigued me. I asked what was in the box and his response was that I had asked this before and he wouldn’t tell me. So I tried to remember. I asked: “Condoms? Little screw drivers? Game pieces? Springs?” To say that I became slightly obsessive might be an undersell. I texted him, “Hey, what’s in the box?” a million and two times. I nattered at him while we were hanging out or driving, asked him if we were on the phone, asked about it in the context of any conversation. In short, it became a game. Of course, the step-monster, house giant and the middle child had to pipe in. Step monster asked :”Magic Beans? One ring to rule them all? Gloves? Face mask? Detonation codes? “ Middle child We took turns haranguing the poor guy. “Is it jellybeans?” He responded with pictures of a huge box of gloves in his wallet or a huge box of tissues, but never told me again. He won.
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So, the house giant often asks where something is while he is looking at it. This catch phrase came into being after I had purchased milkshakes. On the way out the door, passing 3 different cans, the man-child asked, “Where’s the garbage?” So now, every time he asks where something is, can’t find something in the refrigerator/freezer (it is a finite space, take a minute and look for goodness’s sake!) or asks for something he can dang well get for himself, he is greeted with, ”Hey mom, where’s the garbage?” It has gotten to the point where he will say it to himself because he realizes that the object in question is quite literally in front of his eyes. It's yours and you can play with it, but not at dinner time |
AuthorI make stuff. Sometimes the stuff is pretty, sometimes not. My wife, 2 dogs, 3 kids and 3 cats keep me busy and on my toes. Archives
January 2022
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