Grand Slam Communication
I cut my finger slicing vegetables.
It was a tiny cut.
But it hurt because it was the on the tip with all the nerve endings.
I pulled out my trusty superglue to seal up the wound.
Problem solved!
Not so fast…
With all that superglue, my phone didn’t recognize my fingerprint.
I had to type in my password.
But the touch screen wouldn’t respond to my superglued finger.
I know, I know, I have nine other fingers.
But it was awkward.
My old-school solution created a first-world problem.
Sigh…
Recently I gave some sage advice about NOT putting plastic dishes on the hot stove.
Apparently the Grown Son didn’t heed my advice.
I found a kind-of melted, disfigured plastic dish in the kitchen.
Apparently he caught it before it completely melted.
It was the plastic microwave dish cover.
Like a moth to a flame, this thing just keeps landing on the hot stove.
Luckily they are cheap at Target.
I need a new one.
Maybe I’ll buy two.
Just in case.
Bob always mows the lawn himself.
While we were on vacation, he hired a guy to take care of it.
Apparently the gardener never showed up.
The grown son, who did a surprisingly good job of keeping the house tidy in our absence, forgot to mention the no-show lawn guy.
It’s now a jungle out there.
He’s got a huge job to do today.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he finds some old appliances or even cars dumped out there.
Maybe even a body.
Bob won’t care, though.
It’s too hot.
He’ll just shovel up the evidence with the lawn clippings so he can go inside for a cold beer.
It’s the perfect crime.
Just dive in.
I know, the Pacific Ocean is freezing.
But if you dive right in, you only have to scream once.
Once you’re done screaming, you will have adjusted to the temperature.
If you go in inch by inch, you will have to scream many times.
And that’s really annoying.
In a desperate effort to stop the endless bellyaching, all of your friends will want to tackle you into the water.
Just dive in.
Bob has been travelling on business.
Today I am flying out to meet him for a vacation.
I am leaving the house in the hands of my Very Capable and Very Responsible Grown Sons.
They promised me, as I was leaving, that they would not be installing an indoor slip-n-slide.
I am not at all reassured…
The grown but not mature son told me that his friend will be passing through town.
Could I put him up in my spare room?
I said of course.
The grown son asked if I could make a special dinner.
I said of course.
Lasagna?
I said of course.
But, I told him, I’ll need you to go to the store for some things.
The grown son rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance.
Proving that he is grown, but not mature.
Not yet anyway.
I had three students and a slacker interpreter in my English class.
One of the students was really struggling to understand.
Usually the interpreter will jump right in to help.
This interpreter did nothing.
I asked her to please help the student.
She said, in perfect English, that she couldn’t help him.
Because she didn’t understand.
What?!?!
The students said something to each other, and they all laughed.
I don’t need an interpreter to know that they said, “slacker.”
Who proofreads this stuff?
I read the following headline:
“Homicide Suspect Arrested from the Sheriff’s Department.”
This implies that the suspect worked in the Sheriff’s Department.
Which was not the case at all.
The suspect was arrested BY the Sheriff’s Department, not FROM the Sheriff’s Department.
That’s a whole different kind of news story.
And a bit of a disappointing read.
Who proofreads this stuff?
Left turns in Texas drive me crazy.
I have lived in this state for a year now.
And there’s one thing that I just don’t understand.
Maybe someone can explain it to me.
In the left turn lane, with a flashing yellow arrow,
WHY doesn’t the car move ahead into the intersection?
The car always stays behind the limit line.
From that point, there is often no opportunity to make the left turn.
It can take two or three cycles for even one car to move ahead.
Why don’t they pull up?
Is it a law?
Texans are otherwise very aggressive drivers.
Why are they so weak on left turns?
I’m not sure if it’s a law to stay behind the limit line, or if Texans are just weirdly polite about it.
I silently seethe.
And wait my turn.
To make left turns in Texas.
I need to work on my revenge game.
Bob had to get up very, very, very early this morning.
His alarm woke me up.
Fair enough.
I went back to sleep.
However, he left his phone on the nightstand.
In snooze mode.
Nine minutes later, when I barreled furiously into the kitchen, he said cheerily, “what are YOU doing up so early?”
I don’t usually curse.
I made an exception this morning.
However, something went wrong in the execution.
Bob just laughed.
Lacking a Plan B at last-night-o’clock in the morning, I murderously stared him down, and methodically turned on every light in the house.
Just to annoy him.
Again, he laughed.
He turned off all of the lights and apologized for the snooze thing.
I’m going to have to work on my revenge game.
I’m getting weak.