Stick & Stones

Walking back from Daddy’s after a late lunch, I was attacked by a stick.

Now I didn’t KNOW it was a stick when it happened, so I was SURE it was some wild animal, vicious and relentless in its stealth as my demise was planned and plotted.

I was walking along, carrying the extra fried chicken wrapped in tin foil (oh! You thought I MADE the fried chicken? Bwahahahaha), my tea glass firmly held in the crook of my arm, and Tater’s Capri Sun dangling from 2 fingers.

Stink in the ground quote

I looked back to make sure Tater was behind me and as I took that next step, mere feet from the safety of my own front porch, I stepped in the trap of the little known, rarely seen but often rumored to-be-deadly, “Stickintheground”.

The moment I stepped in its nest, it reared its ugly arm and slapped my ankle to let me know I had angered the beast.

Naturally, I screamed and dropped the Capri Sun (but not the Fried Chicken because that would have been a sin), threw my arm up, jumped about 3 feet (ok, I skipped a little but it SHOULD have been about 3 feet) and started swatting at my legs, while looking for the wild beast that attacked me.

Mac was already at the porch and turned around to see why I had screamed. (However, he didn’t come rushing …. Hmmmm…). I told him about the wild animal, sure he would come running to save me from a certain horrible death.

He looked at the ground, looked at me, looked at the ground…..looked back at me.

“Honey, it’s just a stick. You stepped on a stick” as bubbles of laughter began to cascade from him, even as he was trying NOT to laugh. Tater had caught up to me by then and even SHE was laughing.

So I did what any normal, self-respecting, slightly stressed, maybe strange, and perhaps tired, woman would do.

I went over to that stick, stomped on it about 20 times, then picked it up and broke it into a bazillion tiny pieces and ever-so-calmly walked over to the fire pit where I let it fall from my hands like a baptism of fear mixed with victory.

My slightly shocked family watched me pick up the foil wrapped fried chicken (of course I laid it down…taking no chance of ruining that chicken), walk into the house and carry on because killing a wild animal in the middle of a Sunday afternoon is just how I roll.

And THAT’S why I’m having a nice glass of wine at 3:42 pm on Father’s Day…..

*** First Posted on Facebook ย on 6/19/16 at Lipstick, Margaritas, and Hairsprayย ***

 

Advertisements

12 comments

  1. I just love reading your stuff. It brightens my day and makes me think that I’m not crazy because some of the things you write about I’ve been through myself. Keep up the good writing. Enjoy it so much.

    Like

  2. Have just found you and started following you!
    You are a hoot!! I love your sense of humor!
    You give me a good start in the morning!
    Glad I found you…!

    Like

  3. I loved the stick story. I’m still chuckling. That is something that would happen to me. Watching you each morning makes my days brighter. I see why you have such a good following. Can’t decide which I want to order first; compact or coffee mug! Lol keep on being WONDERFUL!

    Like

  4. Omg I feel your pain!!! I did a similar thing with a leaf thinking it was a spider going down the back of my shirt.. Jumping up and down screaming seeing if anyone was around so I could rip my shirt off to get the spider!!! Mr wonderful came running thinking I was being stuns or something….then peed his pants laughing at me when he saw it was a tiny leaf…. I will Never Ever rake leaves again!!!๐Ÿ˜ก

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s