Never have so few struggled so hard for so little, if you want my opinion. Can anybody HELP me here? The old woman Slow has really lost it this time and Pretty is so far away she can’t snatch her through a keyhole from South Carolina which is clearly what somebody needs to do to stop this madness. I don’t like to cast stones, but I have to blame Aunt Nicey-Nice who has been re-christened Aunt Sweetie Pie in keeping with her wishes to change her name in cyberspace. When you’ve lived longer than 90 years, you get to name yourself whatever you want to.
The trouble began when Aunt Sweetie Pie moved from her home in Beaumont to a Facility around the corner in September and couldn’t take fifty years’ worth of stuff with her. She was in a downsizing mode and her daughter Cuz was working with her to try to separate the wheat from the chaff, if you catch my drift. Evidently there was quite a bit of chaff and some of it had Family Stories attached and nothing grabs Slow’s attention more than a Family Story. Hence, the Bed Merry-Go-Round at our casa de Worsham Street. Geez Louise.
The FIRST BED we inherited had belonged to Slow’s grandparents and it found a home in our little spare bedroom which held the air mattresses. Made sense to me. Take the air mattresses out and put a real bed in the little bedroom at the back of our house. So what if the grandparents’ mattresses had actual SPRINGS, for God’s sake. Details, details. It was only a gazillion years old so what could you expect. SPRINGS, that’s what.
But when Pretty was here two weeks ago she and Slow brought ANOTHER old iron bed from Aunt Sweetie Pie who tells Slow some bullshit story about how she had the bed for 70 years and her mother gave it to her for a wedding present and her mother had gotten it from her best friend for free because it was out in her best friend’s back yard and the best friend was a black woman who had probably gotten it from her mother who was a slave blah blah blah. Dear God, where does Aunt Sweetie Pie get these stories and why does Slow fall for them hook, line and sinker?
Oh, and did anybody remember we now had one bed TOO MANY so Slow has been juggling beds for two weeks. Take one down, pass it around. Mattresses here, mattresses there. Finally Slow made another trip to Beaumont today and brought back yet another pair of mattresses that actually FIT the ancient iron bed and now Humpty Dumpty Ancient Iron Bed has been put back together again, but I refuse to have any part of it. It’s insane.
Paw Licker Annie, on the other paw, is such a Kiss Ass she’ll pretend to LIKE the new Ancient Bed. Whatever.
Get me outta here, Percy. Don’t rock the jukebox – my nerves can’t take it tonight. I’m headed to a bed I can trust and I advise all my Amigos to follow The Red Man’s example.
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