Soooo, it was kind of a slow day around the MisfitWisdom estate.
HEY….it’s an estate to me for cripes sake. Why do ya think realtors deal in “real estate.” Ya buy a house, its real “estate,” so technically I DO have an estate ya dummy.
Anyhow, with heavy rain and a tropical storm approaching I was basically safe from having to do man type things in the yard. So I figured I’d venture down to the basement and sort out my workshop. Pretty much safe from women’s “honey do” requests when you’re in the “man room” with all those tools. As any guy will attest to.
BUT……in my house if I’m missing for more than 10 minutes, my other half panics. So, she comes wandering into the “man room” (I could feel all the power tools shuddering) and sez…….”Hey, think I’ll replace those artificial flowers in the flower box on the shed with Winter artificial flowers.”
You DO NOT talk flowery stuff in MY man room.
And, as we all know, ya can’t go past September without replacing Summer artificial flowers with Winter artificial flowers. Federal law.
Soooooooooo. In she comes with the “Summer” artificial flowers and proceeds to pull them out of the styrofoam holder and then screams……”Bee, Bee, Bee, Bee.!!!!”
I’m like thinking to myself, “Bee? Why TF would a bee bee…um…”be” in an artificial flower?”
Then again, if bees are that dumb that they make a nest in an artificial flower, then THAT explains why we have a problem with a decline in the bee population.
So, after I gag her, (didn’t want the bees going into a state of panic) I advised her to hold open a big plastic bag while I carefully deposited the artificial flowers, along with the bees (two) and carried them outside. I set them down next to the shed and explained to them that the flower I was pointing to on the far side of the yard was what they should be hanging out at.
Then I ran. Bees aren’t very hospitable. Or, they just hate it when you make fools out of them.
So later on that evening as I sat in my chair watching the Red Sox kick Yankees ass, (at least in the first inning) I hear the wail of sirens which abruptly stops across the street from us.
Being the inquisitive type, I venture out, spot the neighbors across the street, and we chat, as we normally do when an accident or rescue vehicle responds anywhere in the neighborhood. It’s our only form of excitement and entertainment in this small town.
Other than the lounge lizards leaving the local cafe and attempting to speak English after several drinks.
Soooo, my neighbor Vickie and Tom ask me if I have a problem with stink bugs. Which, are bugs that stink if ya step on them. Kind of like their final act of defiance when ya kill them.
I told them we really didn’t have a problem with the stinkers and I try to avoid stepping on them, but, if it becomes a necessity I simply roll some deodorant on their little armpits and then kill them and they therefore don’t stink.
So my day and evening consisted of bees, bugs and baseball. All of which will be departing very soon as Winter sets in.
That said, I’m not sure which one I’ll miss the most considering the Red Sox sucked this year, the bees in my yard are really dumb, and those stink bugs still stink.
I think I’ll miss working under my truck as I did most of the Summer.
It’s the only place my other half can’t find me.
Guys….trust me on this one. NEVER say where you’re going when you say you’re going out to the yard to do some work. They NEVER question that! Then crawl under your vehicle, fix those odds and ends, and if you hear a woman coming, lie verrry still and don’t make any noise.
Works every time.
Get some really good Z’s under there too.
And…..an occasional stink bug.
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