As he sat there, listening to her voice, screeching at him, he wondered why exactly it was he could hear her? Surely this was a voice intended only for canines! He looked around the small kitchen as she railed on and on about the new Walmart and what a blessing from heaven it truly was.
He began to daydream about the different ways he could stifle that Godawful voice. For a quick moment he thought of just doing her in with the cast iron skillet, but he was hungry and did not want to waste the perfectly good meal that lay therein. He considered sticking her head in the electric can-opener and letting that thing take a spin or two. Yeah, the can-opener! That was the way to go! Nah, while he thought it great fun to imagine, he couldn't kill her. Who would make his dinner? Who would make sure he wore clean, mended clothes? Who would feed the animals, the children, the endless procession of Jesus people that came a-prayin' most every day? Besides, he was a lazy man lacking in the motivation to brush his teeth, much less make the effort it would take to put a hurtin' on her.
He sat looking at the woman who had cared for him for 35 years, trying to tune out the shrieking instrument that was her voice. Finally it dawned on him, it was so easy he was surprised he had not thought of it long ago. Taking a brussel sprout in each hand he shoved them in to his ears. Silence!! It was glorious silence. It was then he, the man who would not deign to move were a train racing toward him, slowly rose from his chair and walked to the refrigerator. He picked up a pen and wrote at the bottom of the grocery list.....busal poots lauts uv busal poots.
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