Monday is a big wedding anniversary for HH and HM. Not the one HH thinks it is, though. He called HM to the bedside this morning during the daily bathroom change-of-command. As he lay there, still warm under the quilt hand-stitched by HM's grandma, given as a wedding gift OH SO MANY years ago, HH grasped HM's hand as she stood shivering, and offered HM a gift she couldn't refuse. HEY! Not that! Don't go down the road to Inappropriateville.
HH offered HM round trip companionship Saturday, to and from the casino, on the Old People's Gambling Bus. That's right. HH is a prince among men. That is the best gift HM could ever hope to receive. But there was one little fly in the ointment. Not that anybody at the Mansion needs ointment for anything. Don't be a Jerry Seinfeld and snoop into the Hillbilly medicine cabinet. No fungus medicine there, for a cat OR people.
HM would have dearly loved a gambling trip with HH. They seldom get out alone, what with those pesky kids that demand constant supervision and feeding three times per day. At any other time, the gift would have been well-received. But this time, it only brought a wistful tear to HM's eye. You see, just last week, what with that $1000 loan to a wayward Hillbilly for two house payments in October, and HH's spur-of-the-moment purchase of the $1000 used Caravan on Saturday...HM dipped into her gambling money to meet the weekly expenses, rather than take money out of checking that wasn't quite there. Money that won't be there until HH's monthly paycheck on the Friday after the last Thursday of the month. Money that will have to go back into savings to replace the Caravan money.
HH and HM are not the watch fob and hair comb type of people. But some would find it ironic that HH offered HM the one gift that would make her happy, and she couldn't accept it because she had permitted HH to buy himself a Caravan the week before.
Woe is HM. O is Henry.
We shall call this little story: The Gift of the Man Who Thought Katherine Hepburn was Betty, the Famous Author Who Just Died.
HM will never be as brief as O. Henry.
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4 comments:
Is this some sort of Gift of the Magi thing, in which HH sold one of his cars to buy you a fat roll of bills to gamble with...
or is this just a subtle way for you to imply that HH is hiding out while avoiding extradition to Panama?
Stewyouvegotitbackwards,
HH has never been known to SELL one of his cars. Oh, he SAYS he's going to sell them, but with the exception of selling MY old car to the Colombian guy at work, that hasn't happened.
What info do you have on HH and Panama? The only trip I know that he's made south of the border is Brazil. Is there something I need to know?
Maybe you should keep putting money back into your casino stash, and then when you get paid back the $1,000 by the wayward hillbilly you should put THAT into the casino stash too, and go to the casino and really, really have a good time. Leave those needy young 'uns with Hillbilly Gramma, take HH with you, and get a pimpish hotel room while you're there. Or DON'T take HH, but still get a pimpish hotel room.
Miss Ann,
Oh, I will DEFINITELY be getting back my casino stash. It will probably be after Christmas, or after Christmas shopping. That is another of my stashes, the Christmas money. If I relied on HH, the kids would have a Little House on the Prairie Christmas, with each of them getting a peppermint stick and a corncob doll.
I can usually get a free hotel room at Harrah's during the week, but it costs me $50-89 on a Friday or Saturday night. The free room ain't so pimpin'. It's usually at the far end of the hall. Or that may be because I DARE to ask for a non-smoking room. We do this during the summer, and occasionally during Christmas break if HH takes off work for a day.
I don't foresee that wayward Hillbilly paying us back at all. He has a couple of other unpaid 'loans' from us as well. At least he doesn't live in a shack that costs him $10 per year and we refuse to help him. At least he is a U.S. citizen, and not living in public housing and we refuse to help him.
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