Morning Attack

I keep waiting for women's equality to save me from killing spiders and investigating things that go bump in the night, but so far it's still me. That's okay, I can handle it.

Yesterday morning there was a mysterious fwoosh... thump from somewhere in the house. This wasn't like the strange noise the day before that sounded like the devil drumming his talons on the house, which turned out to be a woodpecker on a tree outside. This was inside.

"What was that?" Connie asked. Usually I can identify sounds by ear, but not so this time. If there was a serial killer in the house, she wanted me to find him first.

"I don't know, I'll check."

I grabbed a flashlight and left the bed, wearing only an inquisitive look. It sounded like someone or something was in the house and had knocked something over. This happens often. We have a cat. But in this instance, the creature in question was in bed with us. We had no other pets to assign blame to, allowing us to whistle in the dark and preserve our sense of security. So it was my job, as man of the house, to investigate and subdue whatever monster or axe murderer was in our midst.

I looked in the guest room. Everything was in its place, and no creature in sight, unless it was hiding under the bed. I didn't look. I checked the guest bathroom. Likewise lacking in likely suspects. Maybe I'd survive the morning.

Next stop, the utility room. I shined my flashlight into the small room between the hallway and the door to the garage. Water heater, check. Water cooler, check. Washer/dryer, check. Catbox, check. I opened the sliding door to expose the pantry...

I was attacked!

An old man with big gray hair jumped out of the pantry and landed on me. "Nothing is better for thee, than me."

The boxes of Quaker Oats oatmeal we store on a high shelf had collapsed the flimsy box below them. One had fallen to the floor while the other had lurked above, perched precariously for that moment when I would open the door.

I sighed and picked up the boxes. Every weekday morning I have oatmeal for breakfast. High in fiber. "Good for you." hmph. Every weekday noon I have steamed fresh vegetables for lunch (cauliflower, broccoli and carrots). High in vitamins. "Good for you." hmph. Eating healthy is dangerous. The boxes I put back up on the shelf, more securely this time.

Returning to the bedroom, I informed Connie that our mysterious noise was a box of cereal. "That's what I figured," she said.

"We didn't know that when I ventured forth, alone, armed only with a small flashlight... It could have been a cereal killer!"

"aaack!"

Revenge is sweet.


Posted by Dave    Blog Tag: Chatter