Here’s your sign
Probably most of my readers out there can recall the comedian Bill Engvall doing the routine about people asking dumb questions. He contends that stupid people need to wear a sign so that anyone in contact with them will know they are, well, stupid.
Typical of his routine is a guy carrying a stringer full of fish and some bystander asking “hey, did you catch those fish?” To which he replies, “nope, they jumped in the boat with me. Here’s your sign.”
We all can relate to that type of situation where someone asks us about the most obvious thing in the world and Ol’ Dutch has caught himself doing the same on occasion. To which Miss Trixie just nodded in agreement and said, “Here’s your sign.”
And I have to admit that maybe I am slipping a little bit after the events of this past week when Miss Trixie took a sabbatical from the wonderful personage of Ol’ Dutch to help relatives.
She began her sojourn in the land of kith and kin (look it up) last week and she got up bright and early on her day of departure. Which does not fit into my idea of a good start to a day so Ol’ Dutch was stretched out in the bed like a big ole beached whale when she left the house.
Which meant it was so quiet that it woke me up not hearing Miss Trixie’s normal slamming the front door repeatedly trying to get Cooper to poop.
I finally stumbled out of the old fart sack and found my way to the water closet only to find my first, yes you guessed it, sign.
For there on the vanity was a note to Ol’ Dutch with instructions about mundane tasks that she was just sure I needed information about.
Smiling to myself that she thought I would not remember to hang up my towel I found my way to the kitchen to get the coffee started and found another sign again with detailed instructions about what pans to use to cook with.
Again, I had to grin as most of you know that men don't really listen when spoken to and it was kind of cute to think she felt like she had to instruct me on cooking. Ol’ Dutch had done his own cooking for many a year before Miss Trixie was even a glimmer in my eye, so I was not going to starve, regardless.
So, coffee in hand I moved to the living room and found another sign with details about how to treat Cooper's allergies. These were so detailed that even I cannot mess it up, so it seems, but I am sure I did.
Having negotiated the minefield of notes and signs thus far without too much interference with my daily activities, I soon settled into the bachelor living which included leaving my dishes in the sink until they really “needed” washing; leaving my shoes in the middle of the floor; going around half-naked to keep cool; walking Cooper when he wanted to go instead of when Miss Trixie thought he did; sweeping the floor when I thought she was about to return home and a host of other things I cannot get by with in her presence.
A few days went by and Ol’ Dutch was skating along like the little Dutch kids on the canals in Holland when I suddenly found myself out of food and had to access the chest freezer.
And lo and behold there on the top of the freezer was another sign. I am not sure what it said as I am typical of most men and have too much to think about normally to keep insignificant facts floating around in the old noggin. But I recall it being there.
There is one thing that men learn after getting married or cohabiting with a person of the female persuasion and that is they really do not know how to do anything. Regardless of past experience of living on your own and surviving and even prospering, once you hitch your horse to her wagon you turn from a stallion into a mule immediately.
And soon you will be finding out how little you know and that you too will find signs posted around the house. At least that saves us from having to actually wear one around our necks that says, “I’m stupid.”
I wonder if Miss Trixie really thinks Ol’ Dutch can't do anything right? She just said, “here’s your sign Dutch.”
Kevin Kirkpatrick and his Yorkie, Cooper, fish, hunt, ATV or hike daily. His email is [email protected]. Additional news can be found at www.troutrepublic.com.