Barbara Walker stopped by and contributed a great story for our Make Me Laugh Non-Competition. It’s pretty funny too. Knowing what I know about her now, I’d hate to get on her bad side. How ’bout you? Yeah, I’m pointin’ at you sittin’ there staring at your laptop and sipping that coffee. Get busy and …
Barbara Walker stopped by and contributed a great story for our Make Me Laugh Non-Competition. It’s pretty funny too. Knowing what I know about her now, I’d hate to get on her bad side.
How ’bout you? Yeah, I’m pointin’ at you sittin’ there staring at your laptop and sipping that coffee. Get busy and send me a funny story so we can all get a laugh and have some fun. Again, this isn’t a competition. It’s just a fun thing to do while we’re waiting for Thorn to get back from the Mother Land.
Your story can be true or not. Don’t make a dang to me. Just bundle it up and send it to me at firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll post it as soon as I can. Then we’ll all get a laugh like the stories y’all have sent and I’ve posted.
Here’s Barbara’s story….
A Bit of Revenge
I was 17 years old and already pregnant, when I married my boyfriend, Kenny. He was 21 years and not exactly a mature, responsible adult. Thinking I could change him, shows how much I still had to learn in life.
We had been married a very short time, when I was, already, seeing the writing on the wall. He left me at home alone, many nights, while he was on the lothario prowl.
I would sit by myself, watching television, eating a bowl of mashed potatoes, drenched in butter, giving in to my maternal cravings. Or maybe, my heart craved them, as a comfort food.
On this particular night, I had many thoughts about my situation. I knew this was a problem beyond the nagging stage. It wasn’t as if he were merely leaving the lid off the tube of toothpaste. My self esteem had been ground down, but I could feel it arising like the phoenix out of the ashes. I wouldn’t take this anymore. To hell with THIS!
I didn’t want to discuss it with him anymore. However, I did want to make some sort of parting statement. A light bulb went off in my head. Would this really work? I’d seen it on television, but anything was possible in cartoons. However, if it did work, I would have a memory I could always cherish.
I got out my bucket and step stool. I filled the bucket up almost all the way with cold, very cold water. I got my pregnant bulk on the top step and lifted the bucket, with a bit of difficulty, up over the front door. I opened the door, just wide enough, to balance the bucket of water. I knew I had to have some luck on my side for this to work. I got down off the ladder, hoping and praying the bucket would stay in place…at least until Kenny came home.
I was smiling, as I put on my nightgown and got into bed. Of course, I had no idea what time he would decide to grace me with his presence. I lay there and when I pictured the scene in my mind, I would giggle.
We lived on the second story of an apartment building. I knew I probably wouldn’t hear him coming up the stairs.
I lay there, thinking about my future, when all of a sudden, I heard a commotion and a very loud, “GOD DAMN IT!”
I smiled, widely, as I DID hear Kenny, loudly, go back down the stairs.