When will I learn?

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   "Could I get a little more sauce for my spaghetti?" I asked.
   The waitress smiled and nodded. "Sure, hon," she said, then retreated to the kitchen.
   Cheryl ignored the exchange and continued with her questioning. "So what did Uncle Billy say?"
   "Will you hand me the parmesan, please?"
   She handed me the glass shaker with a sigh. "Will you just tell me?"
   I shook a generous portion of cheese on my spaghetti before answering. "What do you think he said?"
   Her gaze narrowed.
   I shrugged my shoulders. "He said it was none of my business."
   Her frustration was apparent. "You specifically asked him if he was taking Clara to Eb and Becky's wedding?"
   I dug a fork into the cheese laden noodles. "Yep."
   "And he said it was none of your business?"
   I paused before shoving the forkful of heaven into my mouth. "Yep."
   She shook her head. "I just can't understand ..."
   The waitress arrived with a small saucer of sauce. "Here ya go, hon."
   In mid-chew, all I could do was look up at her and smile.
   She smiled back. "Anything else I can get you?"
   I shook my head no.
   She looked at Cheryl.
   "Oh, no thank you ... I think we're all set."
   She nodded and walked off
toward another table.
   I swallowed. "By the way, guess who I ran into leaving Alma Beeler's house the other day?"
   Cheryl looked a me with anticipation. "Who?"
   I leaned forward, conspiratorially. "Mike Purcell."
   Cheryl leaned in, too. "Mike Purcell ... from across the street?"
   "Yep."
   "What was he doing at Alma Beeler's?"
   "He said he was helping her with a computer problem."
   "Why wouldn't she call Uncle Billy about something like that? He's really good with computers."
   I nodded smugly. "Waddaya think?"
   She leaned back. "Well, I'll be."
   "Now, don't say anything to anyone."
   She nodded unconvincingly. "Oh, of course not."
   "I mean it ... ... not even Jenny ... I don't want this going viral."

 

 
 

Shack Attack

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   Eb tossed a laundry bag into the back of my car. "Your Uncle was right, Chris ... you do take a lot of stuff camping."
   I laughed. "I think his actual words are, 'I don't think Shackleton was as well equipped as you and Cheryl are when you camp'."
   Eb paused, looking puzzled. "Shackleton?"
   "Sir Earnest Shackleton ... he was an explorer who led a famous expedition to the Antarctic early in the twentieth century."
   Eb nodded. "Oh, I get it."
   I wasn't sure he did. "Anyway, yes ... we do take a lot of stuff ... and thanks for helping take it to the laundromat."
   "Oh sure ... no problem." Eb started to toss another bundle into the car, but halted and said, "Do you think this will fit?"
   I tested the rear gate of the car to see if it would close. "Not much room to spare ... but it''ll fit."
   "Well, good thing this is the last one." Eb tossed in the bundle.
   Cheryl opened the door and came into the garage with two more full clothes bags. "Here's the last of it." She set the bundles on the ground at our feet.
   Eb and I looked at the two bundles and then at each other.
   "You're kidding," I said.
   "No ... that is it," she said.
   Eb picked up one of the bundles. "Maybe I should put this in my car and follow you to the laundromat."
   I picked up the other bundle. "No ... just stuff it in the back ... we'll make it fit."
   Eb shrugged his shoulders and stuffed his bag in. He held it with one hand while I stuffed in the other bag and held it with a hand.
   I reached up with my free hand and started pulling down the rear gate. "Okay, let go and I'll slam the gate shut," I said.
   We both pulled away our hands just as the gate came crashing down. The bags of clothes strained at the windows like dough rising from bread pans.
   Cheryl smiled. "Good job, boys."
   "I don't think Shackleton could've carried this much stuff, either," said Eb.
   "Shackleton?" asked Cheryl.
   "Never mind," I said.
   Cheryl shrugged. "Oh, Eb ... are you going to see Mary this afternoon?"
   "I'm not sure ... why?" asked Eb.
   "I've got some decorations to give her for Becky's shower."
   "Will they fit in my car?"
   Cheryl nodded. "Oh, sure ... it's just one box." She held her hands apart to indicate the size of it.
   Eb wiped his forehead. "Whew, I thought we might need Shackleton's boat."
 

Please connect me with your sales department.

You may have noticed ... but more likely did not ... that the Meat Sack has not returned. I don't know what the delay is, but most likely it is directly attributable to sloth. Annnnyywhoo, that leaves me in charge for another week. I know what you're thinking ... but no, I'm not going on an Internet bender ... I've learned my lesson ... I'm going to stay right here and go on a buying spree ... new memory chips ... a premier sound system ... maybe a hot new monitor ... hmmmm. Hope the Sack's credit cards hold up ... well, that'll teach him for being so lazy!