Saturday, December 17, 2011

You May Be A Redneck If . . . aka Hick-a-billy Joy

I'm just gonna skip right to the joy portion of today's post. No reason to keep the mystery until the end.  Am I right?

I am so glad I have a lint roller thing-a-ma-bob.

There. End of story.

Well, it could be the end of the story if I didn't like telling stories so much.

Today The Calm One helped me put clean sheets on our bed.  If he were telling the story, he would say that I was helping HIM.  But he doesn't have a blog.  In fact, he doesn't get the whole blog thing at all.  His eyes kinda glaze over and drool seeps out of one side of his mouth when I ask if he's read today's post. 

Or any of my posts for that matter.

Never mind that the sheets were wrinkly and sat at the end of our bed for two days.  Never mind that The Calm One was half asleep from working a 10hr shift and then taking our oldest, The Cruise Director, out for breakfast and a bit of shopping.  Never mind all those extraneous details . . .

When we were setting up house our apartment, we had to basically start from scratch.  We sold much of what we owned before we moved because we knew we'd not have room in our temporary home.  And also, someone may have forgotten to pack the tote with the sheets and towels and the tote with kitchen utensils into the world's smallest UHaul ever.  And yet managed to pack a three totes of tools, two totes of hunting gear, several guns and four military uniforms that he will never wear again. And then refuse to unpack those totes (because they were in the front of the trailer) to accommodate "my totes."  A-hem

But nevermind those extraneous details . . .

We found ourselves at the Wal-Marts.  Many, many many times in those first two weeks.  One shopping trip, I found myself in the aisle with all the bedding.  The Calm One took the chickadees to the electronics dept. once again.  I am sure he was allowing the boys to drool over the XBox games and allowing our girl to stare longingly at the diverse assortment of Barbie movies.  He's so sweet to get them out of my hair like that. 

I, however, was staring hard at the already full cart while I taking mental inventory of our checkbook.  And I decided that I needed to go for the least expensive sheets I could find.

Little did I know that least expensive also meant see-through.

I so wish I were kidding.

They were see through before I washed them.  And after I washed them, they were not only see through, but also, magically, giant lint catchers.  Our washer and dryer are brand new, so I knew the it wasn't the fault of the dryer.  The lint trap didn't even have a chance to do its job, poor thing

So, when The Calm One was helping me re-sheet our bed today, I once again had to reach for the lint thingy that now resides on my tower of totes make-shift night stand (an entire post on its own) in a place of prominence. 

Sigh . . .

You know that joke that Jeff Foxworthy tells?  You may be a redneck if you have a regular day that you vacuum the sheets.

Just imagine me in overalls, a straw hat and with a piece of wheat hangin' out my mouth . . .


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