Oops! Hick Did It Again.

I came home yesterday to find two new additions to Thevictorian family sitting on the porch. They were not unattractive. Rather handsome, in their own way. As I was grousing to my sweet, sweet Juno about their origin, (while she was thinking "SHUT UP, WOMAN, AND GIVE ME MY CAT KIBBLE!") a voice hailed me from the front yard. It was Hick, sitting on his Gator. I suppose he had been waiting for me to exit the garage so he could ascertain my reaction.

“Did you see my newest find? I couldn’t pass them up. They were at the same driveway where I got the high chair.”

“Huh. Somebody is cleaning out their junk, and you’re bringing it home.”

“Look at them. They’re good chairs. I had to get them. And over by the bridge? Did you see the tub?”

“What tub? We came the other way. The back road.”

“Somebody had left a #3 washtub by the low water bridge. I got out to look. They had thrown a bunch of deer parts in it, so it didn’t smell very good when I brought it home—“

“Wait a minute! You brought it home? Where is it?”

“Over by the BARn. It’s a good tub. You don’t see those anymore.”

I don’t know what I’m going to do when Hick retires. We’ll have to buy another house, just for the yard to keep the junk he drags home every day.

Sorry. No #3 washtub for you.