You know, sometimes I just can’t win for losin’. Recently, Janet and I were scheduled for a flight out of Pounds Field at 6 in the morning. We were headed to Chicago.
I was goin’ there to work a trade show, and I was draggin’ Janet along to show her the sights after I got through workin’. Anywho, we had to get up at 4 a.m., so Janet could get ready.
“I don’t know why you can’t get ready any faster,” I said. It don’t take me no time, myself.” Janet looked at me.
“Did you know,” she asked, “that your grammar gets worse as you get older?”
“Did you know,” I answered. “that if you didn’t waste all your time correctin’ me, we’d get places faster?”
“If I hadn’t wasted my time marrying you, I wouldn’t have to keep coloring my gray hair, either.”
“Just hurry up,” I whined. “I’m gonna go wait in the truck.”
“OK,” Janet said, “but if you honk that horn at me, I’ll come out there and make you eat it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said as I grabbed my bag. I loaded it into the truck and started back into the house to get Janet’s 14 some-odd bags. What is it with women anyway? I mean, I can pack a whole week’s worth of clothes in one little ol’ bag, and it takes two bags just to pack Janet’s shoes.
Anywho, like I said, I started back into the house, when I noticed a little bitty bird inside our garage. I started chasin’ it around tryin’ to get it to fly out. You know, birds are stupid. I mean, there’s a openin’ big enough to drive two cars through, and the ignorant thing wouldn’t fly out.
About then, Janet opened the door that leads into the garage. The bird dive-bombed Janet, and dashed into the house.
“What was that?” Janet said.
“Bird!” I yelled, as I flew past her in hot pursuit.
“A bird? What are you doing chasing a bird?”
“Never mind,” I said. “We’re gonna be late. I’ll take care of it.”
“How?” asked Janet.
“When it lands, I’ll shoot it,” I said.
“You will not!”
“Because, you can’t kill that little bird.”
“Well, Miss Greenpeace, you got a better idea?”
“We’ll catch it,” she said.
“Ha!” I haaed. “Miss City Girl is gonna catch a bird, huh? What’cha gonna do? Put salt on its tail?”
“Look,” said Janet. “It flew into our bedroom.”
“Quick!” I said, as I ran after it. “Close the door!”
Janet ran in after me and closed the door. “Hmmm,” I thought. “I know! Give me some pantyhose!”
“I’m gonna use ‘em like a butterfly net.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said.
“Just get me some,” I said.
Janet dug a pair of pantyhose out of a drawer. “I hate to ruin a good pair of hose,” she said, as she handed them to me.
“I could still shoot it,” I said.
“Just take the hose.”
I grabbed the hose, while keepin’ an eye on the bird, as it circled the ceilin’ fan.
“Oh no,” said Janet. “What if it flies into the fan?”
“It’ll save me a lot of trouble,” I said.
“You’re cruel,” Janet informed me.
I tried to stretch the openin’ in the panty hose. “Wow!” I exclaimed. “How do you get these things over your…”
“Watch it Buster!” she warned.
“Feet,” I said. “I was gonna say feet.”
“Right,” said Janet.
“I stretched the openin’ as far as I could, then held the hose over my head and started chasin’ the bird. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. There I was runnin’ in circles with the two legs of the panty hose streamin’ out behind. Man, what a sight.
The bird flew into the bathroom with me hot on its heels. I slammed the door. “I’ve got you now, Tweety,” I sneered. It lit on the top of the shower door. I lunged for it, but it was quicker than me I was. I turned to swat the hose at it when my shin came in contact with the commode.
“YEEEEOOOOWWW!” I hollered. Janet jerked open the door.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
I was rubbin’ my shin, as the bird flew out and back into the bedroom.”
“Stupid commode,” I said.
“I thought it might have pecked your eye out,” said Janet.
“Go get my gun,” I said.
“NO!” said Janet. “Look! There it is on the bed!”
Slowly, I crept up to the bed. I had the pantyhose poised over my head. I jumped. The next thing I knew my hands were goin’ in circles. It seemed that the pantyhose had gotten caught in the ceilin’ fan, and my hands were caught in the pantyhose.
“Help!” I yelled as the fan wound the hose, and me, closer and closer. Janet turned off the fan, just as the blades started bouncin’ off my head.
“Oooo,” said Janet. “I bet that hurt.”
“You think,” I said sarcastically, as I tried to free my hands.
“Oh well,” she said. “There’s no blood.”
“That’s reassurin’,” I said as I rubbed the rapidly growin’ goose egg on my forehead. I looked at my watch. “Man,” we’ve got to git. They won’t hold that plane for us, you know.”
“Rusty, we can’t leave that bird in this house for five days.”
“What else can we do?” I asked.
“I don’t’ know,” she said, and she opened the bedroom door. That stupid bird flew right out of our bedroom and right out the door into the garage, then right out into the yard.”
“Well,” said Janet. “That was easy.”
I just looked at her.
“Well,” she said. “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.”
I stumbled out of the house and pulled myself into the truck. I looked in the mirror at my forehead. I was beginnin’ to look like a cross between a unicorn and a rhinoceros.
Janet was all giddy. “I just love going on trips, don’t you?”