Tata: Okay okay okay okay-
Daria: I’m sitting down.
Tata: Okay okay okay we went to Lowe’s and bought peat moss and two bags of manure –
Daria:Those are words you’ll never hear me say: I went to Lowe’s for two bags of manure.
Tata: I could swear I just heard that. So we’re walking out in the parking lot in a pouring rain and Pete tosses two bags of manure in the trunk of my car and I stomp around to the passenger door, open it and sit down. I thought I was sitting on my keys so I jump out of the car and it still hurts and I slap my pants where it hurts and omigod a yellow jacket falls on the ground –
Daria: Where’d you get that?
Tata: Lowe’s, obviously. So obviously I freaked –
Daria: Obviously! Daddy was deathly allergic to wasps –
Tata: I yelped that! If I have trouble breathing take me straight to the hospital!
Daria: Did you?
Tata: Well, no. I was yelping, what with the inhaling and exhaling. So there I was, freaking out, and Pete was holding the mooshed yellow jacket and asking, “Should I hold onto this?” and I was like –
Daria: Did you take the yellow jacket back to Lowe’s?
Tata: I should have returned that and claimed it was already broken but I was thinking Omigod, I cannot die from bee bites. So I said, No. Jesus! You’ll need both hands if you have to carry me into the Emergency Room. The freaking thing stung me four times and I have a crazy strip of swelling down my left thigh.
Daria: I might have to Facebook this: Today, in a pounding rain, my sister got bee-stung on her butt.
Monthly Archives: May 2009
She Is Looking At Me As If I Am
This morning, Pete and I slept in. This is code for “we kicked the cats out of our bedroom and played naked Parchesi,” but don’t tell anyone because having a secret language makes us cool. We are cool! So Pete and I slept in, then made breakfast, then fed the varmints, then we went grocery shopping. Stop & Shop recently opened another store in our 49 square mile hometown so the yuppies could have their own market, and good for them, since they can bite me. This means the Stop & Shop near our house, which is full of nothing, and the Stop & Shop where there used to be woods, which is full of yuppies – neither of those is full of us. We went to the one where the movie theater was when we were teenagers and oh thank Vishnu bad kids didn’t burn that down.
All of which reminds me of sausage. I can’t explain that.
Anyway, we bought some bottles of Terracycle Worm Poop besides the groceries and drove home on two wheels in time to get ready for work at the family stores. While I was waiting for Pete to find a shirt he wanted to wear to sell toys I skipped outside with a container of compost and found my neighbor contemplating a shovel and a relocated tree without a clear crime scene. You have not lived until you’ve dressed for work and spinning the composter, I’ll just tell you that now. It’s just a good thing I look great in minced orange rinds.
Somehow, I found a minute to pour Worm Poop on the blueberry bush, and, pardon you, I am not speaking in code. You didn’t suppose I’d sink to fertilizer jokes, did you?
Poor Impulse Control 