Scott, bless his heart, is an incredible man, but sometimes, his ideas scare me.
Case-in-point:
Today, we put the inflatable pool up for the girls. We pulled up in the driveway, and were discussing where to place it--being that there's no shade in Texas. We have a rather large patio awning in our backyard--it's very nice--so I suggested that we just leash the beast (Jim, the dog), and put the girls' pool back there. His idea?
Scott: "Man, I wish I had a tarp."
Me: "Huh?"
Scott: "Well, I was thinking, I could back in the truck, tie one side of the tarp to the tailbed and the other to the garage door and we could put the pool under that."
Me: *staring in stunned silence*
Scott: "What?"
Me: "Yeah, that's a GREAT idea. Can we be any more WHITE TRASH?"
Git yer spit cup and your cheery Skoal, Skeeter! Throw up that thar tarp, and put the young-ins in the pool. Let's shotgun a Coor's and eat us some squirrel. What? We're outta beer? Well, throw little Annabelle in the pickup and let's go to Walmart. Don't worry--just leave her in her diaper--she don't need no shoes.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Do I know you or something? I could swear you are telling stories from my childhood.
What is your new email address?
stewbie2@yahoo.com
Post a Comment