Harmony County

2011 & 2009 Winner of "Best Humor Column" awarded by the SC Press Association

Hippopotamus, two gnus, hippopotamus, two gnus…

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This past Sunday was the annual ‘Let’s Make Fun of the Old Fart Day’ (LMFOTOFDay). It is also referred to as Grandpa Jim’s (GPJ) Birthday. It is, ostensibly, a celebration of the anniversary of the day when Alice and Jiggs became the proud parents of a bouncing baby boy, yours truly.
Now it has degenerated to a day of back to back cheap shots all aimed with deadly accuracy at me. Relatives from all over, even those with ankle tracking devices, swing by loaded own with insulting birthday cards and equally insulting gifts, e.g. boxes of adult diapers, gallons of Geritol, etc.
The day starts early with the more far flung relatives, usually accompanied by parole officers and various other law enforcement officials, showing up at the door to sound of chains and manacles, and many dressed in survival orange or black and white striped jump suits with large ‘P’s on the back.
As you might guess these guys head straight for the liquor locker. In a flash the corks fill the air and such niceties as ice and even glasses are ignored. Having learned my lesson years ago consequently the good stuff is hidden away and the bottles are filled with ‘Old Stump Lifter’ as a replacement. This crew could not tell the difference.
About 30 minutes into the program the ‘thuds’ begin and lads are snoozing on the floor. Their escorts move them out using the classic ‘ankle drag’ technique which has a detrimental effect on their soon to be hung over noggins in that they have to bump down four concrete stairs to get to the curb.
After a quick clean up using a pressure washer the next shift comes roaring in. These are the grandkids and all the kids in the neighborhood. We have been down this road before, but this time we add cake and candles to the mix. Are you aware that cake is a finger food? The mob roars off and once again I break out the pressure washer.
Now it is time for me to prepare supper for the neighbors who stop by with birthday wishes and huge appetites. Now correct me if I am wrong, but isn’t this supposed to be a “Me, Me, Me” day? If so, why am I in the kitchen slaving over a hot can opener?
Since these people know me best they are fully aware of where I stash the good booze. This crowd is a little more refined they take their sweet time and use glasses. But the net effect is similar to the first bunch, it only takes longer and I have to feed them. Eventually they stagger off and I am left to my own devices, sans booze and chow. For the third time I drag out the pressure washer.
Quiet reigns and the Kilkenny Brothers emerge from under the bed where they have been hiding all day. They too have a demand. They want their supper.
So much for my ‘Me, Me, Me’ day.© 2013, Jim McGowan

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Written by harmonycounty

November 7, 2013 at 4:42 p11

Posted in Americana, Humor

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