Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Three HHs and a Mabel

This evening at supper, HH reported that he had found a snakeskin. OK. Unremarkable. But then HH went on to say that he found the snakeskin in a drawer. Again, unremarkable. I thought he had found one that the older boys might have had as a kid, and kept as a keepsake. Because that's how the Hillbilly family rolls. But then, HH told The Pony he found it in a drawer in the BARn. That means it was a fresh snakeskin. Well, not to the snake, but to the Hillbilly family. HH retired to the living room and put on the Outdoor Channel. Wouldn't you know it, they were talking about snakes. They found a "copper-something" as they put it. HH said, "That's like the skin I found. You've got to catch a snake by the tail." The Pony gave him that look that HH must surely be used to getting from numerous people throughout each day. " catch a snake behind the head. That's so it can't bite you." HH didn't miss a beat. "You can catch it behind the head. But if you are good at keeping the head away from you, you catch it by the tail." Is there a Bear Grylls hotline? Because I need it. Bad.

What else did HH do today? He's been off all week, you know. He asked me if he got anything in the mail. Which, umm, I thought he would have picked up at the mailbox. But no, he thought I should do it, and the #1 son had already announced that he would drive the 4-wheeler down and get it. Let's see. HH also pulled the trash dumpster up to the end of the driveway. Which would have been a thoughtful gesture, except that our trash gets picked up on Thursdays, and any time there's a holiday, it is one day later. So HH had taken the dumpster way up to the end of the driveway Wednesday morning, where it was supposed to sit until Friday afternoon, and any time we got a full bag of trash, it would have needed to be hauled to the end of the driveway instead of out to the garage. Luckily the #1 son is an observant little booger, and spied it when we turned into the driveway, and shouted, "Stop! I'm going to take the dumpster back down until Friday morning." It probably helps that #1 is the one who takes out the trash. So he was only thinking about himself.

On the flip side, HH did take some old shelves out of our mini-pantry, and hung them in my office so I have a place for CDs, and The Pony has a place for all his computer games. HH even sorted through them and put them in their cases for Our Little Pony. Then he offered to take The Pony to a movie tonight, and they chose Madagascar 2. The Pony had helped me bake the traditional Hillbilly Thanksgiving Oreo Cake, and somehow one of the eggs squirted all over his gray shirt while I was putting in the ingredients. I gave him a blue striped shirt, which didn't go so well with his camouflage pants, but instructed him to change into the jeans on the back of the couch before going to the movie. HH called for The Pony to get ready. I reminded him about the jeans. HH said, "What's wrong with the pants he's got on?" Which says a lot about HH's keen fashion sense.

I misspoke about Mabel's surgery. It is not until January. Where she was instead was in Chicago. I asked her if she was stalking BObama. Mabel did not give a conclusive answer. Though she did say that this time she did not sit her royal butt upon an ancient artifact like she did on a previous trip to Chicago, at that famous museum place. When I reminisced and asked her the specifics on that adventure, namely, upon what was she sitting, Mabel replied, "Oh, something Egyptian. It was old--B.C." Those may not be the exact words, but you get the drift. Mabel went to some hoity toity aquarium this time, and saw a fish that was checkered, and a fish that looked like an old man. I asked her how that came about, and she told me that's just how he turned out. I think I'm losing something in translation during my morning chats in the doorway with Mabel.


Stewed Hamm said...

You'd think with the current intense competition for jobs, that museums could find someone to write exhibit descriptions slightly more insightful than "This fish turned out like an old man."
On the other hand, every test from my university composition classes prove that I can BS better than that. I think I'm in the wrong profession.

Word Verification: Rhiness. A female rhinoceros who's gon' get all up in hyar, and if you don' like it, you can talk to da horn, girlfrien'.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Mabel was also surprisingly tight-lipped on her tale of shaking the hand of Wernher von Braun as a little girl. That is, when SHE was a little girl, not he.

Perhaps she is a CIA operative in deep cover.

Perhaps she merely requires intensive tutoring in the art of BSing.