Swampy Clothes and Missing Toes...
The excitement never stops!
Two weekends ago, the Scotsman and I went to visit my sister the Seahag and her boy, Zachipoo. We all decided that the absolute best use of our time would be to take canoes out into the middle of a lake and eat some snacks.
Setting off, we were sure that the Seahag and Zachipoo were going to tip over, judging by the way they argued about how exactly they should be rowing the pink canoe they had chosen (By chosen, I mean the Scotsman deemed the pink canoe unfit for his manly arse, and took the green canoe, leaving Zachipoo to navigate the "girly" vessel.).
Well, arguing is one thing. A not-seaworthy vessel is entirely another. The manly Greenship turned out to be just a pretty face, all style, no substance. (By substance, I mean, sides tall enough to NOT take on water.) REALLY.
We paddled around for more than an hour, ate some chocolate chip cookies, laughed at how stupid Seahag and Zachipoo sounded, shouting, "NO, Zachipoo, I said DON'T tip me over!" "Bwhah-ha-hah! You will love swimming in your clothes!" "AHHHHHHH!!" (These two also found rowing around in a boat to be the perfect time to argue about subject-verb agreement.)
Only, try as he might, Zachipoo's pink boat with tall sides, would not tip over, dumping his girlfriend into the murky depths below.
NO, that priveledge was reserved for... me. The Scotsman and I fell into the lake, approximately 100 yards from shore, when a wave lapped over the side of our Manly Green Deathtrap, filled the canoe, and sent us right on over! IT WAS COOOOOLD!!
We swam to shore, toting our waterlogged vessel behind us, only to discover that "shore" was actually a rock wall skirted by a sidewalk (I must not have mentioned how much rain we've gotten lately). We had to scale the slippery, slimy, most-likely snake-infested wall in order to reach dry land. Only dry land turned out to be an impromptu island.
Then, because the "canoe-warden" was "kind of busy. Are they in danger or anything?" We had to dump out the canoe, try to get back into it, off of the rock wall (I got dumped again when the Scotsman attempted that maneuver!) and row, sopping wet, all the way back to the "real" shore!
Upon finally reaching real, non-island, ground, I took off my now-100-pound wet sweatshirt, revealling a totally soaked and see-through white t-shirt w/ black bra combination to several drunken Turkish exchange students who were attempting to learn how to fly fish. FAN-tastic!
I also lost my sunglasses. The Scotsman lost a sock.
In other news, the Scotsman now has only 5 toes, all on one foot, after a diabetes-related-emergency-surgery. He missed going to a Cubs game in order to go to the hospital, and let me tell you, Surly Scotsman has never made such a committed performance. (I can't blame him, last week really sucked for the Scotsman.) He was gruff and grouchy to the nurses (who tried to give him the wrong insulin), he got into fights with the kitchen people...
Actual conversation:
The Scotsman: "I would like the Personal pizza for dinner."
Kitchen Minion: "You can't have pizza for dinner, it has 6 carb points, and you're only allowed 6 carb points. You can have half a pizza."
The Scotsman: "And because I'm allowed 6 carb points, I can't have something that equals 6 carb points? What the hell?!!!"
Kitchen Minion: "Oh,well you can have pizza, but that's all you can have."
The Scotsman: "I ONLY WANT PIZZA!"
Kitchen Minion: "Okay. Would you also like a salad with that?"
The Scotsman: "Am I ALLOWED to have a salad with pizza, or does that shoot me out of my allotted point range?"
Kitchen Minion: "You can have a salad."
I'm not making that up!
Other dumb things:
"You put your side-rail down? That's against hospital policy." (Siderail was down because the Scotsman couldn't squeeze his shoulders into the narrow twin bed.)
"While you're recovering, try to wiggle your toes, so they don't get stiff" (Um, his imaginary toes?)
SO, now the Scotsman is at home, recovering, and all mad about not being able to go outside and chop things down, mow things, etc... A couple of days ago, I planted the last of our garden, while he sat in a lawn chair, leg propped on a bench, telling me how to plant the garden. I also learned how to mow the lawn, and last night, I scooped the litter box.
(by the way, our cats poop largely. i am getting muscles from all the lifting of pooper-scoopers and pushing of lawn mowers and turning over of soils. and i think i killed the tomato plants.)
never seen anyone so mad about staying home from work and watching t.v. at janeh928@yahoo.com
The excitement never stops!
Two weekends ago, the Scotsman and I went to visit my sister the Seahag and her boy, Zachipoo. We all decided that the absolute best use of our time would be to take canoes out into the middle of a lake and eat some snacks.
Setting off, we were sure that the Seahag and Zachipoo were going to tip over, judging by the way they argued about how exactly they should be rowing the pink canoe they had chosen (By chosen, I mean the Scotsman deemed the pink canoe unfit for his manly arse, and took the green canoe, leaving Zachipoo to navigate the "girly" vessel.).
Well, arguing is one thing. A not-seaworthy vessel is entirely another. The manly Greenship turned out to be just a pretty face, all style, no substance. (By substance, I mean, sides tall enough to NOT take on water.) REALLY.
We paddled around for more than an hour, ate some chocolate chip cookies, laughed at how stupid Seahag and Zachipoo sounded, shouting, "NO, Zachipoo, I said DON'T tip me over!" "Bwhah-ha-hah! You will love swimming in your clothes!" "AHHHHHHH!!" (These two also found rowing around in a boat to be the perfect time to argue about subject-verb agreement.)
Only, try as he might, Zachipoo's pink boat with tall sides, would not tip over, dumping his girlfriend into the murky depths below.
NO, that priveledge was reserved for... me. The Scotsman and I fell into the lake, approximately 100 yards from shore, when a wave lapped over the side of our Manly Green Deathtrap, filled the canoe, and sent us right on over! IT WAS COOOOOLD!!
We swam to shore, toting our waterlogged vessel behind us, only to discover that "shore" was actually a rock wall skirted by a sidewalk (I must not have mentioned how much rain we've gotten lately). We had to scale the slippery, slimy, most-likely snake-infested wall in order to reach dry land. Only dry land turned out to be an impromptu island.
Then, because the "canoe-warden" was "kind of busy. Are they in danger or anything?" We had to dump out the canoe, try to get back into it, off of the rock wall (I got dumped again when the Scotsman attempted that maneuver!) and row, sopping wet, all the way back to the "real" shore!
Upon finally reaching real, non-island, ground, I took off my now-100-pound wet sweatshirt, revealling a totally soaked and see-through white t-shirt w/ black bra combination to several drunken Turkish exchange students who were attempting to learn how to fly fish. FAN-tastic!
I also lost my sunglasses. The Scotsman lost a sock.
In other news, the Scotsman now has only 5 toes, all on one foot, after a diabetes-related-emergency-surgery. He missed going to a Cubs game in order to go to the hospital, and let me tell you, Surly Scotsman has never made such a committed performance. (I can't blame him, last week really sucked for the Scotsman.) He was gruff and grouchy to the nurses (who tried to give him the wrong insulin), he got into fights with the kitchen people...
Actual conversation:
The Scotsman: "I would like the Personal pizza for dinner."
Kitchen Minion: "You can't have pizza for dinner, it has 6 carb points, and you're only allowed 6 carb points. You can have half a pizza."
The Scotsman: "And because I'm allowed 6 carb points, I can't have something that equals 6 carb points? What the hell?!!!"
Kitchen Minion: "Oh,well you can have pizza, but that's all you can have."
The Scotsman: "I ONLY WANT PIZZA!"
Kitchen Minion: "Okay. Would you also like a salad with that?"
The Scotsman: "Am I ALLOWED to have a salad with pizza, or does that shoot me out of my allotted point range?"
Kitchen Minion: "You can have a salad."
I'm not making that up!
Other dumb things:
"You put your side-rail down? That's against hospital policy." (Siderail was down because the Scotsman couldn't squeeze his shoulders into the narrow twin bed.)
"While you're recovering, try to wiggle your toes, so they don't get stiff" (Um, his imaginary toes?)
SO, now the Scotsman is at home, recovering, and all mad about not being able to go outside and chop things down, mow things, etc... A couple of days ago, I planted the last of our garden, while he sat in a lawn chair, leg propped on a bench, telling me how to plant the garden. I also learned how to mow the lawn, and last night, I scooped the litter box.
(by the way, our cats poop largely. i am getting muscles from all the lifting of pooper-scoopers and pushing of lawn mowers and turning over of soils. and i think i killed the tomato plants.)
never seen anyone so mad about staying home from work and watching t.v. at janeh928@yahoo.com
posted by kittybrunette at 1:14 PM
1 Comments:
You guys have all the crazy adventures! My favorite part (besides the unmanly pink vessel) was the pizza carb counting discussion! It sounds like something that has probably been repeated in other hospitals across the country. So much for customer satisfaction!
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