Saturday, July 31, 2010
i have concerns
Okay we’ve talked bobcat.
Taxidermy old bobcat. His name is Bob. How crazy is that?
Well, the mice are feasting on old Bob. They like his nasty old dusty fur to line their nasty little nests.
My parents called to talk about this. How do we dispose of Bob in terms of Kari, aka Lydia? Help us out here, Val.
I said I’d talk to her.
Lyddie, aka Kari said it was okay. If Bob is falling apart, it’s okay. Old taxidermy bobcats are like that. No special ceremony needed. Just disposal, and thanks Bob for being cool.
Okay, and this is the story of my dad and also my mom—kind, forgiving, generous... I mean the people are so incredibly nice.
oh yeah, those two a couple years ago with their first great-grandchild on his baptism
But maybe not so much.
The garbage guy comes to fetch their mini dumpster and he sighs and looks inside. He sighs some more, makes it seem as though the truck dumping the dumper is a personally difficult situation. This is his fatal fault: He lifts the lid to look inside as he does his sighing.
God help him.
My dad has strategically placed old mouse chewed Bob to be right there when he opens the lid. My petite, sweet mother actually laughed most devilishly. Trash pick up is tomorrow. Wow. Oh, karma, I’m a tad bit afraid. Be kind to my parents… (covering head) Har de har har, you two. You guys are living dangerously, and I’m not totally kidding here… Love, Val