How Much Did We Pay For Our New Bikes?

My husband and I decided to buy ourselves some bikes a couple weeks ago. They were new, and bought through a brand-names sporting goods store. We paid a penny each for them. Truth!

Okay. Here's the deal. We went looking for new bikes, on a day flooded with other errands. We found what we liked, but since we didn't have our bike rack with us, couldn't take it home. We were told we would have to put them on lay-away, even though we'd be back in half an hour to claim them. The clerk also told us that we could not pay for them entirely -- store policy for lay-aways -- but we could pay everything but one penny.

Dear Hubby and I grinned at each other, paid for both bikes -- all but two pennies -- went home, got the bike rack and went back to the store. We walked in with a penny each in our palms and said to the different clerk now at the counter: "We want to buy two bikes. Here's two pennies." Without blinking, he said, "Oh. You have them on lay-away."

Well... WE thought it was funny to buy bikes for a penny each.

Impossible to Train

I can't even remember the event leading up to it, but as we were driving home today, my husband commented about something I'd done, ending with: "...You're impossible to train!"

Rising to the challenge, or perhaps daring to confirm his 30+ year old suspicions, I responded, "Too-whooo!"

To which, after a pause, he said, "You never laugh at my jokes. So why should I laugh at yours?"

What's the Name of that Toad?

There's a toad in the plants under our living room picture window. He's about a fist and a half big. When I showed him to my hubby (from our living room), he asked me what I was going to name him. As I was thinking (and wondering if I even wanted to name him), my husband joked, "Ah-choo. I hab a toad."

"Perfect name," I replied.

So, in honor of my hubby's un-realized suggestion, and of Mel Brooks, Ah-choo hops down the garden path of our backyard. (God bless you.)

Lyin' Lion

For decades, on a corner of a busy intersection in town, there sat a waist-high, cement lion. About three years ago, it suddenly disappeared. I felt wounded, like part of our town's history was missing.

A couple weeks ago, in order to avoid traffic, I drove down a narrow side street, about a mile from the busy intersection. Lo and behold! There, sitting next to a warehouse, was the lion!

I was so excited with my find, that the next time my husband and I were in a car together, I took him down that very road. However, by this time, someone had knocked the poor lion over.

My husband's first thought: "The lion's lyin', and I ain't."

Snake Tale, Part I

I used to be terrified of snakes. Then I learned to hold and pet them and call them "Fluffy."

Perhaps the funniest snake story I know of came from a pilot friend who lived in South Dakota. He says this really happened to him.

While overnight in Georgia, a bunch of his pilot buds and he decided to do some local night fishing in a swamp. they rented boats, took lanterns to draw the fish to them, as well as shotguns to protect themselves from alligators. One pilot didn't know how to swim, so decided to stick close to the shore, unlike his buddies who figured the fishing would be better further out.

Picture several rowboats, most with two men in each, scattered throughout the bay, the men quietly fishing in the dark. Think peaceful, calm, serene. Hear: BAM! as a single gunshot blast goes off. Everyone was silent, wondering, worrying. Then my friend heard a soft: "Help."

No alligator. No Deliverance. Seems that the guy in the boat close to shore was under a tree. From the said overhanging tree dropped a snake into the bottom of his rowboat. Being terrified of snakes, he shot it. Picture big hole in boat bottom.

Buffy Teen!

One summer in high school, I worked for my father at his warehouse in downtown Cleveland. A truck was to pick up a large shipment. The driver called late afternoon to say he was running late. After taking the twenty or so 3' x 3' boxes onto the loading dock, the rest of the employees left.

There I was, on a dock in a back alley in downtown Cleveland, in a not-so-calm part of town, pre-cell phones days, waiting, alone, eyeing the alley and building for someone to jump me. I really wanted to be anyplace else but there, and at that time of after hours. But I was the owner's daughter, and the pick-up had to be made. And, did I mention alone?

FINALLY, the truck pulled up. This stalky truck driver lumbered out, apologizing to me. I hardly looked at him to say "S'okay" as I bend over for a box. My adrenaline was shooting through me. All I wanted to do was to get out of there, fast.He barely had the back pulled opened before I started tossing the boxes to him. When the boxes were loaded, I turned to go.

The driver called after me, "You married?"

My heart raced harder as I thought... I'm alone, in a back alley. What does he want? Shoot! I thought of lying to him and saying, "Yeah, buster. I'm married to this big, strong guy who is... big, and... strong. So, watch it." But being stunned and stupid, I replied, "No."

He answered, "Well, when you do get married, you're going to be able to beat the hell out of your husband."

My Dying Request(s)

A friend's mother is dying. It's a struggle for her to speak even one word. I've decided to aide both my family and future care givers by laminating personal cards in advance. If I ever get to a point when I can't speak, I will simply hold up a card, indicating what I want, like: "Chocolate!"