And, since my last post...

I've whacked my head again, though not as hard and I just burnt the back of my ringfinger on my right hand on a pot of potpourrie on the stove.

I hit my head on the edge of the newly placed table while digging around in my tape/CD/miscellaneous shit cabinet by the stove.

And, the reason I was even out there to do this shit to myself is that Sr. has requested a cake.
Or cookies.
Or both.

And, since he's been really super-sweet and not the slightest bit distructive of the cleanliness, order and overall "wow" of the house so far, I'm gonna do 'em.

If I live long enough.

And, speaking of Sr....

Since the other day and especially since I got done cleaning this time, he's been excellent.

I came down this morning and noticed that half a pound of bacon was gone.
I saw that only when I opened the fridge for something else.

I saw that, did a double-take, then slowly gazed around the kitchen and was nearly awestuck by what I didn't see...

No cabinets hanging open.
No bacon left out.
No bacon just thrown into the fridge open, but not wrapped, for that matter.
No 900 dirty dishes.
No nuttin'.

Except for the frying pan in the sink, the kitchen was as I left it when I went to bed.

Okay.
So who's been cookin' bacon?

I came in here and George happened to be home from work, waiting for the weather to clear.
I asked him, "Were you here when bacon was cooked?"

"Yep."

"'Kaaay. Who did it?"

"Senior."

"---------."
(I fainted.)

No, not really, but it WAS Sr. who cooked it.
And who also didn't leave a mess.

And, just now, as I'm sitting here telling y'all this, my radio beeps and it's him again.

He asks if we have any chicken and if we do why don't I take it out of the freezer and he'll deep fry it tonight for dinner.

*stunned silence*

I literally, but gently, rapped my radio on the desktop, looked again and it still said "Ricky-poo", which is how I have him in my phone.

I then keyed up and said, "Okay. Who IS this and where'd ya find Rick's phone?"

'Ha, ha. Very funny", says he, as if it's just every DAY he says THAT kinda stuff.
"I've been wanting to do that since Christmas Day...", he continues.

"Holy SHIT, man. What next? Us getting laid? Jeeez..." I marvelled.

Holy cow.

OH! and my idea about how cool me moving the table could be actually happened!

Me, Sr. and Jr. sat there, all watching TV and playing Monopoly til almost midnight.

Sr. kicked our asses.

It was GREAT.

Then, earlier today, Sr. asks about the cake.
This, after I'd already obtained the rugburn and almost knocked myself out with my car door, but... okay.

Hope I don't burn to death, though.

Then, as I'm prepping to do that, I again hit my head looking for a CD to bake by and burn myself while de-bacon-greasing the surface of the stove (hey, can't have everything. Where would I put it?).

Then, he offers to make dinner.

Jesus.

I feel like I've stepped into some kinda of parallel universe or something.
Or, like maybe somebody kidnapped Sr. and replaced him with an almost exact replica.

(And, while I had the dictionary out, seeing whether it's "llel" or "lell", I also looked up "joss sticks" and yeah, it's incense, thankyewver'much.)

Wow.

Am I still me?

And, who da hell IS that on my radio?

Posted by: Stevie at 03:25 PM

Comments

Posted by: Cindy at January 09, 2007 08:22 AM (Iigtw)

Posted by: Best regards at March 05, 2007 09:58 PM (GSnOS)

Posted by: Best regards at March 05, 2007 09:58 PM (8luWC)

Posted by: helen at June 15, 2009 01:23 AM (sz1m7)

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