Keeping house… sorta

April 5, 2015

My wife didn’t think it possible for one person to get into that much trouble in so little unsupervised time. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have left me alone. Personally, outside of that little incident with the strawberries, bananas, ice cream and the blender (tops should fit better than that), I didn’t notice the disaster she kept babbling about when she returned home. “I should never have accepted those assignments. I shouldn’t have left.” I moved my socks off the dining room table, pulled out a chair, suddenly remembered where I left the salmon I set out to thaw, slipped ...

Hurry! Earth is doomed!

March 29, 2015

“There’s no time to lose,” I yelped as I tossed aside the newspaper and popped out of my easy chair. Terry yelped, too. I whirled to face her. “You saw it? Startling, isn’t it?” “Definitely. Usually, I have to pry you out of the La-Z-Boy.” “Not that.” I scooped the newspaper off the floor and thrust it at her. “Right there. Earth is collapsing. We’re doomed! And I have so much left to do.” Terry smoothed the paper and read. “A group of physicists predict the universe will collapse, crushing all matter.” I dashed around the room. “I need a pencil. So ...

Look, up in the sky … it’s a big kid!

March 22, 2015

I didn’t hear my wife come home until her voice cut me down in mid-flight: “What are you doing now?” “I, uh ... Research.” “You tied a blanket around your neck and you’re running around the dining room singing, ‘Da-dat-da-dum!’” “It’s a cape,” I said. “And if you wish any hope at being successful, you’ll wear one too. Or I could loan you my Spider-Man mask.” “Use your muscle to help unload the groceries, Superman.” “Underdog.” “Huh?” “This one’s my Underdog cape. My first superhero, back before kindergarten. I’m trying to ...

Just a yard sale away from riches

March 15, 2015

I shop the wrong yard sales. We don’t have an attic. Otherwise, we’d be rich. Look at the evidence. Last week, yet another giddy person yammered on about the 50-cent yard sale find that turned out to be worth thousands of dollars. When I spend 50 cents at a yard sale, I find out I’ve just acquired goods worth a dime. Or a nickel. So far, Donald Trump hasn’t called to hire me as an investments adviser. Or maybe he tried. We bought our phones at a yard sale. The latest trash-to-treasure tale popped up last week out of Batesville, Ind., where a guy named Jesse Ronnebaum told ...

Punishing puns win wordplay titles

March 8, 2015

Oh, those nasty puns. You try scrubbing them out and soaking them out, and you can still come out ringed around by groans and hollers. * You can push the envelope, but it’ll still be stationery. * When the dog gave birth, she was cited for littering. * I tried to catch fog. I mist. We ought to throw the book at people practicing punnery. Preferably, a dictionary. But instead of legislating the lexicon, the pundits are competing for word play championships. At the 38th annual O. Henry Pun-Off World Championships May 9 in Austin, Texas, people will be rewarded for spouting ...

Sausage gravy opens up a life of miracles

March 1, 2015

You bet I believe in miracles. The delectable contents of a tin can sealed the deal. We’d just come home from church on a chilly February afternoon with our faith tanks topped off and our bellies bleating for brunch. Terry and I have a Sunday tradition — omelets. We’re also trying to create a newer but far more boring tradition — healthier eating. “We ran out of fresh peppers and onions,” Terry said. She rummaged through the canned goods cupboard for backup healthy fixings. “What about this?” She held up can of Glory Foods brand “sensibly seasoned, lower ...