Every move you make
Every meal you fake
Every thirst you slake
Every drive you take
I'll be watching you (unless there are groceries to be carried in)
Hick has been retired for a year now. I think. Seems like longer. Anyhoo, he's loosened his hold on me a bit. He gets up and leaves the house without making sure he accidentally wakes me. He doesn't suddenly appear in the doorway of my dark basement lair at the very moment I'm about to have lunch and scratch lottery tickets. He doesn't follow me around the kitchen cutting block like we're attached by carabiners on the face of El Capitan. Yes, he's loosened his hold a bit.
When I came back from shopping and acquiring my 44 oz Diet Coke on Wednesday afternoon, Hick sent me a text:
"I'm watching for you and I'll carry in your stuff."
"I'm in the garage."
Funny how he hadn't seen me as I stopped T-Hoe at the top of the driveway, lifted the lid of Dumpy II, noted that the trash had not been taken yet, closed the lid, and drove down the 1/8 mile driveway to the garage. Let's not make him a watchman for anything important. If Hick had been helping Paul Revere, we'd all be speaking English right now. Oh, wait...
Hick had the good nature to act sheepish upon entering the garage, after I texted him that I was sitting in the garage when I got his text. Maybe he thought I was pranking him, like that time he told ME he was at the mailboxes, and I passed him four miles away, not even within spitting distance of the mailboxes. Even now, I sometimes tell him, when he calls or texts to ask where I am, "By the mailboxes." Just so he doesn't forget that I remember the incident.
Still, after a short interval where I could practically hear the gears turning in Hick's head, with him wondering if he should walk out to the garage, just in case I really WAS there...he did show up.
"I don't know how I could have missed you coming up the driveway!"
"Yeah. Me neither."
Let the record show that from the La-Z-Boy, you get a clear view of about 80% of the driveway. Unless your eyes are closed during a nap, maybe.
Mrs. C always seems to need me for something when ever I take a nap...then again I do nap a lot.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you always give up the nap to help her. Because NOT to would be a JERK move!
DeleteHe probably had his eyes on the phone while texting as you drove down the driveway. How long does it take him to type and send a text? About long enough for you to check the dumpster and drive into the garage?
ReplyDeleteYou might be onto something! That IS a possibility. Hick might want to hire you if you want to freelance as his alibi-provider.
DeleteI don't come cheap, he may not be able to afford me. Since I don't seem to be able to win any millions, I'll have to charge quite a bit.
DeleteHick has a thriving Storage Unit Store. It depends on how bad he needs an alibi. Like how big a check his mouth writes that his butt can't cash!
DeleteSlick Hick will never pull one over on you. My granddaughter called to say she was turning into her work so I could pick up the baby. I said, "That's weird. I don't see you anywhere." Ten minutes later I saw her get out of her car with a Starbuck's drink. Uh Hum!
ReplyDeleteBUSTED!
DeleteYou'd just better hope Hick's mind never turns to criminal intent. He's a clever one, that Hick.
ReplyDeleteHick IS clever! That's what makes him dangerous. Well...that, and his sweaving method of driving.
Delete