Today was to be the day of warnings regarding motorized push lawn mowers and their cavalier attitude toward the Environment as they burp smelly gases into whatever atmosphere is hovering around our shoulders. How they, along with buzzing mosquitoes and yipping terriers, contribute incessantly to air pollution. And, most importantly, about their tendency to lose a wheel in the middle of a mowing project and then demand that they can’t wear said wheel without not only 2 washers, but a bolt, necessitating The Prude to crawl in a ladylike fashion all over the .538 acres to find the stinking bolt.
However, an Incident occurred yesterday. It met with great disapproval. And what displeases The Prude surely displeases her readers.
I refer to Gravity. Yes, yes, I know it has its uses. I Googled it and came up with 5. As a God-given creation it deserves our respect. I only wish it would treat us with a little reciprocal respect. Sometimes, The Prude wishes Gravity would just look the other way for a moment.
The Incident involved my refrigerator, a tipped jar of caramel ice cream sauce, and a loose lid. I could have dealt with those if Gravity hadn’t decided to kick in. She sent the sauce snaking down the inside of the refrigerator all the way from the top shelf to the bottom vegetable crisper, with no one to de-stick it but The Prude. And who knows if it stopped there? Did it find a minute opening in the bottom of the refrigerator? Did Gravity send the caramel sauce oozing through teeny holes in my floorboards? Did Gravity direct it down through miniscule foundation cracks, and then on through the layers of the earth? Did the caramel gain new impetus as it wound its way to the fiery core, and, re-gooified, end up in China, where at this moment a sister Prude might feel something sticky plop on her head, causing her to look up at the sky, and state ‘憎æ¶!!!!’ (translated loosely- ‘EEEEWWWW!’)
Gravity is ruthless. It pulls various body parts downward as we age and it grabs unshed tears precipitated by watching puppy commercials, then sends them coursing down our cheeks and making us appear Soft.
The Prude would love to hear from you about your run-ins with Gravity. Just be cautiously respectful. Somewhere a bird with too much fiber in its system is looking for a target audience and that target could be you.
10 comments:
please insert an additional 'o' in the word 'lose' in the 3rd sentence in the 1st paragraph, and accept my profound apologies.
Hahaha. I love how you word things! And I'm sorry you had to clean up all that spilled caramel sauce. That sounds like a pain.
I already had a run-in with a bird with too much fiber in its system at Navy Pier a few years ago! I was a little unhappy with Gravity then as well.
I would never have noticed your typing error. Lose sounds right to me!
So funny. Gravity had its way with an open glass of grape juice someone left on the top shelf of my refrigerator. Despite the "spill proof" shelves, every individual section of the frig and most of its door received the spill.
Again begging your pardons, but in the 2nd sentence please note that the buzzing mosquitoes and yipping terriers contribute to NOISE pollution.
Sigh.
However, the stories of Navy Pier birds and grape juice make me feel much better.
My run-ins with gravity could fill a book. Most of them involve flesh meeting various object, usually made of cement, hardwood, or metal (sometimes sharpened). Gravity hates me. If it had it's way, I'd have been dead before adulthood. It's a good thing I have natural ninja capabilities.
'Gravity Hates Me' would be a great name for a book. I would buy it.
if gravity has dragged my body parts south, why am I still trudging through snow?
Joanie
Ah Joanie! That is so funny!
I wonder if Joanie has grasped the gravity of the situation...
I just finished fighting off a sinus infection. Believe me, I know about gravity.
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