From wallpaper to the Walking Dead

Aug 16, 2023

Conversations you never think you’ll have:

Widdle Baby, out of nowhere: “Honey if I die and you’re starving, you can eat me. I won’t be mad.”

Me, utterly confused: “WTH??!?”

Widdle: “Just saying, if there’s no food after an apocalypse, you can eat me.”

Me: “I CANNOT DO THIS TODAY.”

Widdle, offended: “So you wouldn’t nibble my knee?”

Me: “I just don’t know how we got here. We started out looking at wallpaper.”

Widdle: “Wallpaper won’t mean anything if you’re starving.”

Just another Saturday at Crazy Acres. ( I think we now know what’ll happen to me after an apocalypse.)

Me, to brother T-Bob: “Hey, remember that time you set the barn on fire?”

T-Bob: “Auugh! I’ve carried that blame for 50+ years.”

Me: “No blame, just facts. You set the barn on fire.”

T-Bob: “But did you die? Anyway, it was an accident.”

Me: “A pack of matches, newspapers and kerosene would disagree.”

T-Bob: “I was experimenting. Science, yo.”

Me: “Mom and Dad thought you’d be a serial killer.”

T-Bob: “IT WAS SCIENCE.”

Me: “Okay, Jesse Pinkman. Science.”

Sewing friend: “How’s it going?”

Me: “I broke two needles trying to hem a pair of jeans. Also, it took me three hours to wind a bobbin and another day to thread the machine.”

Friend: “Made anything yet?”

Me: “Several puncture wounds and one scissor cut.”

Friend: “It’s a learning curve.”

Me: “I broke my tailor’s chalk and busted a blind hem presser foot. Also I stitched the walking foot inside a pillow. Then the bobbin snarled and the machine froze up.”

Friend: “Have you thought about knitting?”

Me: “Many times.”

Neighbor:” Didn’t y’all use to have goats?”

Me: “Yes.”

Neighbor: “We might get some. It’s not hard, right?”

Me: “If by hard you mean they stand at the gate and scream all day, attempt to eat your belt and shoes, escape daily and stop traffic on a busy highway, then yes, it’s hard.”

Friend: “But they’re a lot of fun?”

Me: “They can be. Do you know what grown-up billy goats do?”

Friend: “Is this the part about trolls and a covered bridge?”

Me: “What? No. They—well, the males relieve themselves in their beards. Copiously. Several times a day.”

Friend: “Gross!”

Me: “The lady goats like it. But it smells like hot garbage and shattered dreams.”

Friend: “Maybe we’ll stick with chickens.”

Co-worker: “What are you gonna do when you retire?”

Me: “I can retire?”

Co-worker: “I mean, you’re old enough. Right?”

Me: “Tell me I’ve wasted money on moisturizer without telling me I’ve wasted money on moisturizer.”

Co-worker: “Ha, ha! When did you first start working?”

Me: “Forty-eight years ago.”

Co-worker: “No maternity leave? Sabbatical? Family leave?”

Me: “I took three days off when my dog died.”

Co-worker: “Why not go over to HR and see what’s up? Maybe you could retire tomorrow.”

Me: Jumps in car, guns it.

Me, to a strange man wandering our property with gun in hand: “Hey!”

Stranger: “Hey. Your husband said I could hunt here.”

Me: “Pretty sure he didn’t.”

Stranger: He did.”

Me: “Fifty feet from the back door? No.”

Stranger: “I swear.”

Me: “What’s my husband’s name?”

Stranger: “Uh… David?”

Me: “Nope. Thanks for playing. Bye!”

Stranger: “John?”

Me: “That’s my ex-husband. I KNOW he didn’t give you permission. Also, you’re on about eight different trail cams right now.”

Stranger, chuckles: “Yes ma’am. Thanks.”

“No problem. Hey, would you shoot some squirrels on the way out? Be safe!”

Julie R. Smith, who had an interesting convo with her banker last week, can be reached at [email protected].

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