Sunday, March 29, 2009


Last Friday Wendell and I played out our own scene of The Three Stooges. We play fight...a lot. I like to say Molly is the 3rd stooge as she always barks, jumps and paws at us when we do. Our last play fight was no exception.

Wendell took his stance, took a few swings....but I was already floating like a butterfly, so he missed. I'm floatin.....and floatin'....and I saw my opportunity.....STING....just like a bee! Molly instantly joined in the fight jumping and barking. She proved to be a slight distraction which allowed Wendell a few jabs.

But now that I was alert:

He was taking it like a man. Then he restorted to kicking....a disadvantage to me. My 5'3 stature next to his 6'4 didn't stand much of a chance.....but I wasn't going to let that keep me sir!

So I kicked back.....but he was too quick for me.....he grabbed my foot. I tried to stable myself to no avail. I hopped and hopped my way right smack into a shelving unit of DVD's

I was waiting for the rainfall of DVD's to pelt my head, but miraculously not a single one left its shelf. Instead, the large vase full of wilting flowers sitting atop the shelving unit toppled over showering me with murky water and flower petals in an array of sizes, shapes and colors, and it would not have been complete without the smelly, sticky stems sticking to my hair. Who could resist bursting into laughter after a scene like that?

I was covered in the icky remnants of what once were lovely, aromatic flowers. And of course all this happens as we are suppose to be heading out the door for a bite to eat with a friend who just so happened to come to the door right after I stripped off my wet, stinky and dead flower decorated clothes, leaving me to make a mad dash to the bathroom to dry off, deflower and change.


Organic Meatbag said...

Cool! Sounds like an Ike and Tina Turner story!

musicjunkie said...

Bruises and all...haha