Tuesday, April 22, 2008

The Case of the Missing Bananas...

Dear Internets: I am adding this little update to inform you that, due to a shockingly stupid move on my part, I lost most of my Twitter followers. Like, last week. I've gotten some of them back, but dang it, I want 'em all!! If you followed me on Twitter, go check it out and make sure you still have me. If you don't, look for Miss Ann Derstood and follow her please.... We'll go someplace nice... like, I dunno, Denny's or something...


Oh, if only I had an "Ethel" to make all my little mistakes and foibles look "cute". If only Satan would put his hands on his hips and, in a lovingly exasperated way say to me, "Miss Anne! You got some 'splainin' to-do!" And then my face would crumple in this really delightful way and I'd say, "AAAAAGGGGHHHH! I'm sorry, Satan!! I can't do AAAANNNYthing right! AAAAGGGGHHHH!" And then he's say, "Awww, hawnee, i's ok, hawnee!"

*sigh*

But that isn't what happened, internets... Here, let me 'splain to you what hah-penned:

So, y'all know I am something of a no-good-nik around the house. I don't like to clean. And that's surely a bold understatement. I hate it with a passion that borders on obscenity. I hate it so bad, I... well, I simply refuse to do it. That's all. You know how some people have the motto, "If it feels good, do it?" Well, so do I. And housework doesn't feel good.

Satan and I have gone round and round about this for centuries. Or, at least, you know... 24 years. I have NEVER been a good housewife. I'll never BE a good housewife. I have other, better, MAD skillz...
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1. Like, for instance, I'm a fabulous cook. Oh, I'm not a gourmet chef, for sure. But, when the cupboards are bare, the fridge is empty, and the bank account dry, I can take a can of beans, a handful of rice, an onion a green pepper, and a few spices, and make a MEAL. Plus, I can make cornbread that'll make you wanna go home and slap yo' momma, just for fun.

But Satan? He don't like most of the food I cook. He likes MEAT. Just big gobs of meat, slung out over a plate and piled high with sour cream and salt and cheese.... Dear God, it's disgusting what that man will eat.

2. I've got a fabulous sense of humor. If I can't enthrall you with my great beauty, mostly because I don't HAVE any great beauty, then I can at least entertain you with my rapier wit. I like to laugh. I like things that are funny. If I have to make fun of myself to make YOU laugh, well, then so be it. If you cut me, I will bleed little clown noses...

But Satan? He don't like to laugh so much. And while that makes him the PERFECT straight man, it gets to be a drag when I can't produce so much as a smile on that beardy face of his.

3. I am handy to have around. I know how to program the VCR, the microwave, and the oven. If something is wrong with the computer, or the printer, or the modem, I can usually play around with it long enough to get it working. I can set the alarm clocks, fetch the voice mail, read a MAP, a RULER, and assembly instructions for nearly anything.

But Satan? Never watches anything but murder shows on TV, would rather DIE than get on the computer, doesn't give a SHIT about voice mail, never goes ANYWHERE he would need a map, and would rather pay that extra 10 dollars to have EVERYTHING assembled by someone else.

4. I have a really cute smile, great hair, and barring that PESKY LITTLE LEFT ONE, I have bedroom eyes...

But Satan? Doesn't smile, doesn't give a tiny rat's ass about hair, and wouldn't know a flirty stare if it gutted him like a fish. He has been known to rant, on more than one occasion--"What the fuck are you lookin' at? What's wrong with your eye?", when I turn those bedroom eyes on him.

5. I can suck a football through a garden hose.

But Satan? ... Well, now that I think about it, he kinda likes that about me...
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But I digress...

After years and years of fighting and threatening and pissing and moaning about the house, we finally agreed to hire a cleaning lady. And I had just the one. Let's call her LINDA. Linda used to be the cleaning lady for my boss and his wife. She comes highly recommended. My boss' wife says NO ONE can clean like Linda.

So, I call Linda up on the phone, arrange to meet her at my house for a look-see, agree to her price of $65 dollars for an eight-hour day (can you BELIEVE that? I don't know whether to be tickled to death or mad as hell).

And promptly wait 3 weeks to ever get her there. First SHE was sick... Then *I* was sick... Then her MOM was sick... I was beginning to think Linda was a figment of someone's wicked imagination, when finally, she showed up at my door.

To give the poor thing credit, she never even FLINCHED when she saw my house. She looked a tad GREEN around the GILLS when she saw the enormous pile of DISHES in my sink, on my counters, on the stove, and on the kitchen table. There may have even been a few on the floor. But I assured her that all the dishes would be done prior to her arrival, and she agreed to come the following Monday.

On Sunday, she called me up and offered to bring her SISTER for only $35 dollars more per day. I cleared it with Satan, who said, "Oh God! Yes! The more the merrier! I'm MADE of money!" That Satan... he's so quirky and cute sometimes...

I sat in a dream-like fog all day Monday, dreaming of windows you could see through, walls you wouldn't be afraid to touch, and kitchen counters that you could actually set a slice of bread on, without fear of catching CHICKEN DEATH...

Thing 2 went home at lunch to put the babies (which are 3 year old DOGS, by the way, and certainly do not count as babies anymore, but they will always be babies to US) out to pee. She came back up to my office and said, "What are we paying Linda's big fat SISTER for? She's sitting at your desk, twiddling her thumbs..."

I was not to be discouraged. "She's probably tired from WORKING SO HARD, and is taking a short break," opined I.

And when I walked through my front door on Monday evening, I WAS tickled to death. Not in the strictest sense of the word, mind you, but the house SMELLED of pine-sol, the walls were CLEAN! and the TURKEY OF DOOM had been brushed free of the 3-inch layer of dust which had nearly hidden him from my view. (Ok, I wasn't so happy 'bout the turkey of doom.)

Tuesday morning, Linda called and said she had a migraine. She'd be there Thursday. I had kind of expected this, because my boss' wife had told me she could be a bit flaky about showing up as scheduled. "If you can put up with her millions of excuses about why she CAN'T come in today," said my boss' wife, "You'll LOVE her, because she's the BEST at cleaning. The BEST!"

Hell, I can put up with about anything. I've been married to fucking SATAN for 24 years! A migraine is no match for MY mad patience.

That brings us to Thursday... The day that I had SUCH high hopes and bright sunny feelings for. Linda calls me at 10:00 and says, "I'm here working, but my sister's car broke down and I need to go pick her up. Is that ok? I'll work later this evening to make up for the time." Awww. That Linda is such a cutie, I thought. Of COURSE it's ok, long as I get my full 8 hours, from each of you. My middle name IS "Get my money's worth" you know.

Little did I know, the crimes that were about to be perpetrated upon my little dirty house...

to be continuted...

11 comments:

Avitable said...

Of course, by "lost", you mean "deleted my Twitter account", right?

:D

Bina said...

AH! And I was SO in to this! Crimes??? Hmmm. Ya know, I'm the best cleaner I know. I'm quick. I'm good. I bet I could even put up with Satan, cause after all, his mother raised me! LOL

But I'm sure you are a million miles a way!

Miss Anne Derstood said...

Avitable: You didn't have to tell that part of it, did you?

bina: where are you? hell, I'll fly you in... Miss Britt can pick you up when she gets her free chartered plane...

Burfica said...

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuckkkkkkkkkkk

you know you can't leave me hanging. You know I obsess and freak out and check back every fucking half hour!!!

What the hell happened????

Burfica said...

And I'm following you on twitter, you better be me. grrrrr lol

FlippinCowhugger said...

Geez, mom. Please remember that your daughter peeks around on here sometimes...

and doesn't want to know about the items you can suck through a straw. It's rather trashy, dont you think?

:)

LOVE,
"Thing 1"

FlippinCowhugger said...

*** or gardenhose...or any other tube powered by suction...

Did you know that there is no such thing as suction, actually? Air is forced from high to low pressure and when you "suck", you're just lowering the pressure in your lungs so that air is forced into them.

Miss Anne Derstood said...

Thing 2: Nobody likes a know-it-all. Least of all, me. And don't call your mother trashy. She might start telling more tales on you...

Burf: You'll have to wait till tomorrow. And I AM following you on twitter! Promise!!

Miss Anne Derstood said...

Shit, I meant Thing 1...

OldHorsetailSnake said...

All is not what it seems to be? Tell me you're teasing.

the planet of janet said...

*tap tap tap* i'm waaaaaaaiting...

oh, and btw, tag -- you're it. heh