Hi, Peeplezs!
Yu wimmen are strange critters some times. Somethin' just happened thet has me puzzled big time, an' I thought I'd run it by sum experts like you an' hopefully yu can give me some advice and suggestions.
It started yesterday mornin'. Linda fixed my breakfast, served it up with a flourish, then jumped in the car and went to town. I didn't think much of it, because it was all pretty much business as usual.
She came back in a few hours, looked at me with a sheepish look, and said, "I have to tell you something."
"Aha!" I shot back. "Yu got a ticket, didn't you?"
Her head came up with a triumphant look in her eyes. "No, I didn't!" There was a pause while a big grin covered her face, then continued. "In fact, I've changed my mind. I'm not gonna tell you after all!"
Now this is familiar territory for me. If I start pumping her about what it was, I'd be lucky to find out within six months, if ever. On the other hand, if I leave it well enough alone, it will only be a short while before either her conscience makes her tell, or she'll tell me out of sheer curiosity to see what my reaction will be. Therefore, I just gave her a knowing grin, drawled "Okaayyyy." And changed the subject.
Sure enough, it worked. A little while ago she called me in the kitchen. "Remember yesterday when I was going to tell you something and then changed my mind?"
"Yessss..."
"An' you thought I'd gotten a ticket?"
"Yessss..."
"Well, it actually happened while I was fixing your breakfast before I went to town. I was shredding potatoes for your hashbrowns when I got my knuckle too close and shredded part of my knuckle too." She grinned and showed it to me. There was a chunk of hide missing that was about a sixteenth of an inch square.
Then she continued with a grin: "I don't know where it went." She didn't have to say much more. That chunk of skin would be almost the exact shade of the pile of shredded spuds under it. She didn't want to throw the good potatoes out, and she didn't want to start over. Therefore she scraped them all together, threw them in the frying pan and fixed my breakfast.
So, folks, here are my questions:
1. I think she's trying to send me a message, but for the life of me I can't figure out what it is. Can you help? 2. Now that it appears that I've eaten part of my wife, does that make me a canny-bal?
I mean, I know she worships me, 'cause she's given me burnt offerings before, but this seems like a bit much.
Please help.
Turrible Tom
