Sunday, November 15, 2009

No more little trinkets...

You know when they say it rains it pours? Well they're right (whoever "they" is.) Uncle Carl didn't get home from the Rut last night until near 3:30, and you better believe Aunt Mimi was up when he arrived. I was in bed and could hear him stumblin' around drunk as a sailor's dog, and Aunt Mimi sure let him have it. This morning when I woke, Aunt Mimi was screaming because she lost her lucky bunny foot in Uncle Carl's car yesterday morning. We had gone down to the grocery store, and like always she had that damn foot in her lap when she made a wrong turn down a one-way street and just about hit a hearse head on. Well the foot went flying, as did I. How's that for luck. She didn't even realize it was gone until last night when Carl took the car. Well I 'spose she searched every inch of that car, and she finally did find it, in addition to a pair of purple frilly panties that Uncle Carl had stashed in the glovebox. Poor Aunty Mimi. Carl took it real smooth though, he didn't even look up from his paper when she came burstin' through the door at breakfast, he just said, "You oughtn't worry your pretty little head over it." As for me? I got the hell out of there. Everything seemed to be okay when I came home, except Mimi had smashed all of Carl's beloved figurines. He'd collected them since he was a young boy from inside each Bigelow tea-box. On the floor porcelain animals were smashed to a million little pieces. I 'spose Mimi thought she was getting even with Carl, but she didn't know how much it bothered me to see his little trinkets on the ground. I didn't know what to do so I sat down and watched Golden Girls with Mimi, and Carl walked in from a night at The Rut, saw his trinkets and felt a little more sobered, no doubt.

No comments:

Post a Comment