Stinkers

One of the things I call Hurricane and Tornado when we are playing is “little stinkers”. They will usually call me a little stinker, and then I will call them little stinkers and chase them until I get tired of chasing stinkers. I’ve called kids little stinkers for as long as I can remember. I imagine it started with my kids when they were little. Back then I could chase them for a lot longer than I do now. It is all in good fun.

However, for the last week or so I have taken to referring to Brendan and his wife as little stinkers. I haven’t been chasing them; in fact I have tried to keep upwind. I guess I should explain that they are having their bathroom remodelled and it is off limits for showers and baths until it’s finished. Now, they say that they are showering at the gym, and that may just be what is happening, but why should I take the chance. I have a largish nose and being bigger than most noses around, I suck in more air and more fragrance. It is fine when you are in a mountain meadow that is filled with pine scent and blooming wildflowers, but if you happen to be trapped in an elevator with several of the great unwashed, it is torture.

Thankfully, the bathroom is nearing completion and soon my big, little stinkers will be stinkers in name only.

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I was watching a show tonight and there was a military funeral in it. There was pomp and ceremony, gunfire, tears, saluting and a folded flag handed to the grieving widow. I told Louise that she shouldn’t go to that trouble when I die, just a simple gathering of friends and perhaps a musical tribute on all radio and TV stations by the biggest stars of the day will probably be fine.

I’m not keen on the idea of lying in state for days or weeks, while throngs of weeping strangers silently march by, laying Western wood lilies on the ground. I wouldn’t mind a few strategically placed life sized bronze statues that the people can come to for years to come. It would be nice if they were told that to touch the statue would bring good fortune. Come to think of it, maybe the artist could put a slot between the shoulder blades so that coins could be dropped in for good luck. There isn’t any reason I can’t earn while I am dead.

 I don’t know about a perpetual flame. Most perpetual flames aren’t really perpetual, at best they might last fifty years max. After the flames goes out due to cost or malfunction, it would just become a joke. Nope, simple is the way to go.

When I die I want to become a large piggy bank. Placement of the slot is of the utmost importance however…