Guessing Games

Guess what?

Remember how we used to drive our parents batty with that question?  And then how our own children drove us batty with the same question?

"Guess what?"

"What?"

"Guess!"

"I don't know..."

"Just guess!"

And so on and so on and so on...

But guessing games can be quite fun at times, so that's what're doing today.  Why?  Guess.

Come on, take a stab at it.  Just guess.

Give up?

Okay, I'll tell.

Mother Theresa, at The Rain in Spain has presented me with the Stylish Blogger award.  Isn't it pretty? I like the way it sparkles.  And since I've never, EVER, been referred to as stylish, I will gratefully accept this award.   Thank you, Mother Theresa!

As with many awards, this one comes with requirements - that I tell you, my readers, seven fascinating bits of knowledge about myself, and that I pass it on to ten other stylish bloggers.

Stylish, y'all hear that?  You gotta be stylish.

But, I'm having a little trouble coming up with seven fascinating bits y'all don't already know about me.  I mean, come on, when you've told everybody what brand of feminine products you use, well, that just doesn't leave much to the imagination, now does it?

So, to disguise the fact that I have no further scintillating tidbits about myself, I've come up with my own version of this meme: Guess what.  As in, guess what's true and what's not true.  About moi.

Yeah, I'm a French Southern belle.

That one's not true.  I'm giving y'all a freebie.

Oh, I almost forgot...I now get to pass this on to ten more Stylish Bloggers!  And since I don't know much about some of my newest followers, (except, of course, that they're stylish,) I choose to present the award to some of them... 

1)   Heather, at This is the Day.

2)   Kelly, at Cross Your T's.

3)   Cindy, at Another Step Forward.

4)   Wanda, at Tennessee Perennial Images. 

5)   Colleen, at Edge of the Woods Studio.

6)   Barbara, at Confessions of a Photography Addict - Long Hollow Photography.

7)   Birdie, at 40 and Loving It.

8)   In the Gutter.

9)   Rain, at My Farm on the Hill.

10) CherylK, at Lake Mary Musings.

Okay, so here we go.  Since I need to list seven true things, I'm balancing it out with seven things that aren't true. Watch out, now - some are a cinch, but some are tricky.  Play along, and I'll post the answers Monday, April 4.  If you're just dying to know before that, though, e-mail me and I'll clue you in.

1)    I used to live just 7 miles away from Elvis Presley.  I painted his portrait more than once and even have one of my originals hanging in my loft at home.

2)    I once chased a bear up a mountain to get a closer photo.

3)    I have been invited to the Royal Wedding in London.

4)    I have a photo hanging in my house of me with Gary Trudeau, of Doonesbury fame, taken after I had been commissioned to do some life-sized stand-ups of his characters.

5)    Had Fred not put his foot down (which he does a lot,) I would probably be the mother of twelve children.

6)    Shirley McClaine and I were sisters in a past life.

7)    I love my job.

8)    I once helped deliver a baby in the backseat of a car.

9)    My father was on the Selma march with Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

10)  When I was a little girl, I wanted nothing more out of life than to go to the moon.

11)  I was once asked by a good friend to partner on her grand money-making idea, but I refused.  She made a bit of money...as designer of the Cabbage Patch Kids.

12)  As an artist long, long ago, I worked with the man who eventually became a Disney artist...and the producer of Mulan.

13)  Fred served for a brief time as a deputy sheriff and we met when he had to arrest me for...well, we won't go into that right now.

And now the most important little tidbit...

14)  In July, I will welcome my first grandchild into this world, and it's....a girl!  Or is it a boy?

Guess what?

NO BOYS ALLOWED!

Seriously, y'all, this is a story of experimentation best left to the imagination for any male readers out there.  Sorry, guys, but y'all just don't have the stomach for this subject.

What am I talking about?  Feminine products, that's what. 

Are all the boys gone now?  Good, we can get on with our story.

PRELUDE

Y'all might remember that from roughly mid December till February I was sick off and on with severe kidney infections, flu, and bronchitis.  And flu and bronchitis always leave that annoying deep hacking cough which just lingers on and on and on...   Add kidney infections to that, factor in age 50+, and you've just concocted yourself a recipe for the dreaded...urinary incontinence.

I'm not talking about a little leak here and there; I'm talking about some major gushing.  No puny little panty liner was gonna handle this, and I absolutely refused to buy a box of extra large Depends. 

So I went with the obvious solution: maxi pads.

Now, y'all, I went through an early menopause, but I was sure I still had some of those pads...somewhere.  Digging far back into the recesses of every bathroom cabinet and drawer, I found Tums, expiration date March 2003; a half-filled bottle of DayQuil, expiration date January 2008; a bag of cotton balls that exploded when I tugged at it; a McBride and the Ride bandana; a yellow Hot Wheels car, what I think was part of a Transformer, and a green roof slat from a set of Lincoln Logs; enough black and white buttons to make a good-sized mosaic cow; three unopened packs of Bic shavers and two of Q-Tips; my missing Carpenters' Christmas cassette tape; one Charlie Brown Christmas toe sock; dozens of Disney shampoos and hotel-sized soaps; and the instruction manual for a VCR that had died a slow, painful death about five years ago.

But no maxi pads.  So off to Dollar General Store I went in my coat thrown over my pajamas.

I have no shame.

It seems things have changed a bit in the feminine products section since I last made a purchase.  Of course, everything is a lot more expensive, but I was totally unprepared for the wide variety of feminine products available.   Did y'all know they make a pad for thongs now?

It staggers the imagination.

Knowing I needed something industrial strength, I chose Always Extra Heavy Overnight with Flex Wings.  I had no idea what Flex Wings were, and truthfully, still don't, but let me tell y'all: these things work.

In spite of the width and unbelievable 15 inch length of these things, they don't have that pillow-between-your-legs feeling like the old maxi pads. Those Flex Wings are wide and stay securely in place.  I can testify that they're super-absorbent, because I coughed myself silly through many nights and never once had a leak.  They shoulda used these things to soak up that Gulf Oil Spill.  And the adhesive backing?

IT STICKS.

THE EXPERIMENT

I was in the bathroom, having already peeled the plastic backing off one of these super-sized things, when I decided to go ahead and get my bath. Since I had just reused the new wrapper, I had nowhere to restick the new pad while I bathed.  NOWHERE.  What to do? 

I stuck it to the wall. 

Honestly, I intended to leave it there only as long as it would take me to get ready for the tub, but since it was still firmly affixed to the wall at that point, I thought, dang, that's some good adhesive, and just left it there.  A long, relaxing, bubbly jacuzzi bath was just what the doctor had ordered for my various maladies, and when I emerged and had dried off, that thing was still stuck up there on the wall.

I mean, that's some really good adhesive.

Purely out of curiosity, I assure you, I resolved to test the adhesion of this thing by leaving it on the wall until it chose to fall off on its own.

I actually forgot all about it, but was reminded several hours later when Fred arrived home from work.  He removed his coat, set down his lunchbox in the kitchen, and disappeared into the bathroom.  Approximately 30 seconds later, I heard him call.

"Ethel!"

"What?" I called wearily, having just lain down on the couch.

"Come 'ere!" he hollered.

Remote in hand and three dogs already settled into place atop me, I had no intention of just hopping up and doing Fred's bidding.  "Whadayou want?"  I hollered back.

"Come HERE!"  he insisted.

I reluctantly heaved myself off the couch, displacing three dogs who were none too happy about having been deposed so quickly, and shuffled in my fuzzy houseshoes to the bathroom door.

He was seated on the throne, carefully averting his eyes from my new work of art.  "What is THAT?"  he asked.

Suppressing a smile at his discomfiture, I said innocently, "What?"

"THAT," he said, pointing, but still avoiding direct eye contact.

"It's an Always Extra Heavy Overnight Maxi Pad with Flex Wings."

"I KNOW what it is, what's it doing there?"

"It's an experiment..."  But he cut me off.

"Get it down."

"But I haven't finished the experiment..."

"Get it down."

"But it's just an innocent little..."

"Get it down."

I guess I couldn't blame him.  After all, he's just a man.

But the Always Extra Heavy Overnight Maxi Pad with Flex Wings experiment goes on: I took another pad a few weeks later and stuck it to the back side of the closet door, away from Fred's line of sight.

It's been there nine days.

Dang, that's some really good adhesive.

Love Birds

Good morning!  My name is Alexander Hawthorn Nathaniel Beeker XVI.  Just call me Alex.

I am here today to tell a love story - the story of Molly and Ben.

That's Ben over there.  And that's his house.  It was everything a bird could want...yet Ben was unhappy.  He was alone. 

He was also camera shy.

One snowy day he caught the eye of the lovely Molly, and he instantly fell in love.

Ben asked her to move into his house, but Molly was a lady of fine breeding, and told him that she would never consider living with him without the benefit of marriage.

"M...m...m...marriage!?" he faltered.  "But...but, I'm not ready for that kind of commitment!  Look, I'll refurnish the house just for you!"

But still she refused.  "I'd rather freeze out here in the snow!"  she sniffed, and she turned her back on him.

"I have berries..." he enticed her.  "Chocolate covered berries..." 

Ben mistook the fire in her eyes as passion for him, and proposed on the spot.

He swelled with pride at his prowess.  "Who's the man?  Who's the man?"  he shouted into the darkening skies.

They were married immediately and Molly moved into the big house.  They were very happy.

One day, with Ben out shopping for groceries and Molly visiting her mother, a cute little chick named Bonnie spied the big house and came calling.  After knocking several times and finding no occupants, she laid claim to the house and moved in.

When Ben returned and dropped the groceries inside, he found Bonnie sprawled across his nest.

"Who are you?" he demanded, rather hysterically.  "What are you doing here?"

"I'm Bonnie, and I'm just tweeting a few friends, inviting them over for a housewarming party," she said innocently.

I would have asked where she'd gotten the iPhone.

"Get out!  Get out before my wife comes back!" Ben told her in panic. 

"Get out?" Bonnie said.  "But it's snowing again!  And who made you ruler of the roost, anyway, huh?  We women have rights now, you know!"  And with that, she budged him aside and settled herself once again atop the soft nest inside.  Try as he might, Ben could not convince Bonnie to leave.

When Molly returned and saw Ben in a house full of partying ladies, she flew into a jealous rage.

"I'll have the divorce papers drawn up tomorrow," she screeched, "and don't EVEN think you're getting this house!"

Despondent, Ben flew to his old nest in a cold crabapple tree.

But Molly was heartbroken and found that she couldn't sleep in an empty nest.  Distraught, she donned her winter coat and slept outside on the snowy ledge.

Enter the villain, Snape.

(His parents named him before they'd finished reading the last Harry Potter book.  They didn't know old Snape was decent in the end.)

This is my imitation of him.  Pretty cool, huh?

Snape had been watching our little Molly during the night and had concocted a plan to take advantage of her newly broken heart and make her his own.

Oh, the angst!  I simply could not stand by and allow this rogue to take Ben's grieving wife!  But what could I do?

Quickly, I devised a plan to entrap Snape.  As I lacked the necessary...attributes...to entice him, I enlisted the aid of a comely young lass named Sophia.  "Can we talk?"  I asked of her, and I outlined my scheme.

 "I don't know," she fretted.  "It sounds kind of...devious."

"I'll have to think it over..."

"Ummmm...what's in it for me?"

"I'M IN!" she said, eyes wide and beak gaping.

That was easy.

With Sophia on board, we laid our trap and waited for Snape to make his move.

"Good...good," I whispered silently from the sidelines.  "Now!  Give him that 'come hither' look!"

"Closer...closer..." I found myself whispering.

"Work it...work it..."

I waited until just the right moment, then gave the word:  "Fly!  Fly under the table now!

"Oh, I feel so cheap," Sophia rued.

(She got over it when Big Red swept her off her feet.)

But Snape took the bait!  His beak was caught, and...well, Snape was...out of the picture, so to say.

And what happened then?  Well, the rest, as they say, is history.

Bonnie took a shine to a tall, handsome stranger...

...and flew the coop to be with him.

Molly moved back into their home, and Ben came begging forgiveness.  She tearfully relented....

...and they lived happily ever after.

THE END