Havin' a Ball
I love a good joke. But I despise practical jokes, especially when they're played on me. Don't get me wrong, I have a playful side but some things just make me see red.
Snowballs are not funny. I live in Michigan where there is plenty of snow for about half the year. Not being the athletic type, in the least, I try to stay away from snowball fights.
Well, Ichabod, my guy, thinks snow and snowballs are loads of fun. He used to dump them on me while I was in the shower. This made me mad, but at least they would go down the drain and I could warm up right away under the hot water.
Then he got the funny (oh, ha ha) idea to go out on the deck and make a snowball. The deck was right off the living room where I was sitting on the leather couch. I didn't know what he was doing as I had my face buried in a book as usual. All of a sudden something came flying at me. My first reaction was to put my arm up to block it. Of course it was a snowball. Of course when it hit my arm it burst into many little bits of snow all over the couch, carpet, books, me, etc. I'm not usually violent, but this time I saw red. Ichabod's a pretty muscled kind of guy, fairly tough. But I ran over and punched him hard on his upper arm. Thank goodness he's not the type to hit back. It still made his arm hurt for a while.
You'd think he'd have learned his lesson. Oh no. Last month we went over to the Boston area to visit my aunt and uncle. We were leaving a museum in Salem and were heading back to their van. It was a snowy sidewalk, not shoveled well enough for two people to walk side by side. So it didn't seem weird to me that Ichabod wasn't beside me. All of a sudden (deja vu all over again) something hit me in my low back. I thought he'd given me an over-hard smack on what he thought was my overcoat-covered ass, to be playful. He was actually about 50 feet back laughing his ass off about the snowball he'd thrown. I'm not sure if it was because it hurt so much or that I couldn't believe he'd actually done it again. I went running back, furious, not really sure what I'd do. My aunt and uncle, slower walkers than we were, were even farther behind so he was by himself when I got there. I ran up to him and said "Assfuck!" and kicked him in the leg. I didn't hurt him this time. He was so busy laughing about my "assfuck" that I don't think he would have felt much pain anyway.
My aunt and uncle never mentioned it. Ichabod is still teasing me about the assfuck. I still don't think snowballs are funny. Thank God for Spring melt!
Snowballs are not funny. I live in Michigan where there is plenty of snow for about half the year. Not being the athletic type, in the least, I try to stay away from snowball fights.
Well, Ichabod, my guy, thinks snow and snowballs are loads of fun. He used to dump them on me while I was in the shower. This made me mad, but at least they would go down the drain and I could warm up right away under the hot water.
Then he got the funny (oh, ha ha) idea to go out on the deck and make a snowball. The deck was right off the living room where I was sitting on the leather couch. I didn't know what he was doing as I had my face buried in a book as usual. All of a sudden something came flying at me. My first reaction was to put my arm up to block it. Of course it was a snowball. Of course when it hit my arm it burst into many little bits of snow all over the couch, carpet, books, me, etc. I'm not usually violent, but this time I saw red. Ichabod's a pretty muscled kind of guy, fairly tough. But I ran over and punched him hard on his upper arm. Thank goodness he's not the type to hit back. It still made his arm hurt for a while.
You'd think he'd have learned his lesson. Oh no. Last month we went over to the Boston area to visit my aunt and uncle. We were leaving a museum in Salem and were heading back to their van. It was a snowy sidewalk, not shoveled well enough for two people to walk side by side. So it didn't seem weird to me that Ichabod wasn't beside me. All of a sudden (deja vu all over again) something hit me in my low back. I thought he'd given me an over-hard smack on what he thought was my overcoat-covered ass, to be playful. He was actually about 50 feet back laughing his ass off about the snowball he'd thrown. I'm not sure if it was because it hurt so much or that I couldn't believe he'd actually done it again. I went running back, furious, not really sure what I'd do. My aunt and uncle, slower walkers than we were, were even farther behind so he was by himself when I got there. I ran up to him and said "Assfuck!" and kicked him in the leg. I didn't hurt him this time. He was so busy laughing about my "assfuck" that I don't think he would have felt much pain anyway.
My aunt and uncle never mentioned it. Ichabod is still teasing me about the assfuck. I still don't think snowballs are funny. Thank God for Spring melt!
Squirl chattered at 7:40 AM
9 comments
You'd better check your freezer, there's probably an arsenal of snowballs hidden in there!
Wow, Sierrabella, good point. I'll check right now. Thanks! :-)
Yes, I was so mad that was the only thing I could think to call him. I thought I said it quietly but Ichabod says I spoke from my diaphragm so they must have heard it. Oh well. Since they could see that Ich was still able to walk after the kick they were probably laughing . It was never mentioned by them, but Ich will never let me live it down. :-)
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LOl....good story. however, if I had ever said "assfuck" in front of any of the evangelicals (essential the whole family sans me), heart attacks would have followed. Daughter in law used the word "shit" in front of one of the uncles. His response: "and you kiss your mother with that mouth, young lady?"
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Jitterbuzz2 - This is a fairly recent story. Ich might not have had a chance to tell you about this one yet.
Great White - My whole family is pretty relaxed about the language thing, as you've probably guessed by my and my sister's blogs. My poor mother tried to keep us in line when we were growing up. I remember using the word shit in front of her when I was 17 or 18. Her response was "Ladies don't use the 'S' word." Now that she's no longer responsible for my upbringing I can tell a joke in front of her with the, yes, the "F" word in it. Not that she'd ever use it herself, but she's not opposed to giggle over such language now and then.
Durn it girl! I mean, oh Bucky, what're gonna do with you???
I guess that should've been what're WE gonna do with you?
I think it's too late.
Susie, thank goodness for him the snow here has melted. :-)
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