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Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Wednesday Wibbles (Big V’s Big Blowup)

Sitting at the dining table tonight, as Mason is watching Cars for the nth time (actually, playing around in between race scenes). No new followers to welcome this week, but the blog must go on regardless, right?

This was an interesting evening… I was working at home today, and was packing it in for the day when Mrs. Fetched called. “Meet me at Big V’s in five minutes.”

“But what if I don’t want to go down there?”

“Then you don’t eat.”

Well, I applied the usual formula for Mrs. Fetched’s time estimates: multiply by two and add one, then headed down there. She was cooking sloppy joes, while Mason and Skylar were playing in the back room. I wandered on back to look in on them, and the “fun” began shortly after when they started running loose. Big V is more than half-blind these days, and tools around on a powerchair. She came down the hall to borrow my phone, since hers was dead, and ran Skylar’s foot over in the hallway. He howled for a few minutes, but didn’t even limp after he settled down. It scared him more than anything.

I guess Mrs. Fetched must have said something to Big V about watching what she’s doing and waiting for me to come down the hall — next thing I know, I heard a door slam (so I thought). Voices rose, and rose again, and continued to rise, and it wasn’t long before the two of them were in a major-league shouting match. When I came out to see what was going on, Big V hoisted herself out of her powerchair, portable drill/driver in hand, and started on the door between the living room and the little hallway going to the carport. Turned out Big V didn’t slam the door, she deliberately drove her powerchair through it. She didn’t tear the door off its hinges so much as she tore the hinges out of the frame. I took over with the drill, because she couldn’t see to hit the screws, then took the door out to the carport and stood it up out of the way.

With that accomplished, Mrs. Fetched told me to get Mason, because we were leaving, and then the two of them managed to kick their shouting match up an order of magnitude once I got Mason outside. Made me glad I was in my own car, and Mason chose to go home with me — but that’s normal, he likes riding in my car for some reason despite it being noisy and lacking in A/C (red is his favorite color, though).

We got home, and realized that supper (i.e. the sloppy joe stuff) was down at Big V’s, so Mrs. Fetched went and got some. While she was there, Big V said to not help her do anything anymore. No problem. That will last just as long as it takes for her to need/want something. Like I’ve said before, Big V isn’t the most stable isotope on the periodic table.


  1. I will swallow most anything to be polite to company. Sometimes I work on not being that way.

  2. Work on not driving a powerchair through a door, you mean? ;-)


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