-
Alt Text for Image
Today's topic is random thoughts about this 'n' that.
Number one is my husband's driving. As I get older and less tolerant of certain things, it seems that his driving skills are number one on my 'hit' parade of things that raise my blood pressure.
Men are inclined to believe they possess the driving skills and cat-like reflexes of a NASCAR race car driver with the ability to navigate a 3,000-pound death-trap at 70 miles-per-hour on a country road. They couldn't accomplish this superhuman feat when they were young whippersnappers, and they dang sure can't now, especially once they pass the big 7-0.
Why is it that men take speed limit signs as mere suggestions? David insists that speed limit signs come with a five mile-per-hour padding. My point of contention is his refusal to listen to directions. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Why would he listen to his directionally-challenged wife?" I'll tell you why. I can't even count the number of times I've spent telling him he needs to be in the opposite lane he insists on driving in, or he'll miss our turn and act surprised when I point out our exit as we fly by. Sheesh!
I saw a commercial today for a heating pad. What's so special about that? Because this was not just any old heating pad, this was a weighted one, so if a random stranger entered your house and tried to blow a heating pad off your body with a powerful leaf-blower, you'd be all set.
Seriously. The commercial showed a woman lying in her bed with a heating pad on her stomach, and some guy walked in and blew it away with a leaf-blower. Then she switched to the new and improved weighted one, and viola, he was unable to blow it off her stomach.
When did this become a problem? I've never had a heating pad blow off my body with or without the help of a powerful leaf-blower. And why would someone have one in their house? Have they determined that a leaf-blower works better than a dust rag for dusting the house? If so, I'd be on board. I hate dusting.
One reason I don't attempt to reorganize my home is the fact that I will go back to the original location of any item I'm looking for – every single time. Of course, it won't be there, and I'll get mad at myself and start hunting in the most obscure places.
Just the other day, I spent a good thirty minutes hunting for a small hand-held drink mixer that I needed for a recipe. I looked in the original spot, then every other place else I thought I might have decided was a better place to store it. After I gave up, I went back to the original storage place, dug a little deeper, and sure enough, there it was all along.
My inability to recall hiding places is happening more and more often. I guess the take-away here is – never reorganize your house. Also, never let your husband or grandkids put the dishes away if you don't want to spend all day playing hideand-go-seek with your cooking utensils. David has lived in this house for 18 years and still doesn't know where anything goes in the kitchen. The fact that I have no idea where any of his tools belong is beside the point.
The last topic for today is scammers. You've got to give them points for never giving up or taking no for an answer. I got a hilarious e-mail from a scammer threatening to send pics of me doing naughty stuff (insert laughing, crying emoji here) to all my friends and acquaintances if I didn't send him 500 bitcoins within 48 hours. I don't even know what the heck a bitcoin is. He was sweet about it, though. He gave me detailed instructions on how to buy and send bitcoins so I wouldn't have to be worried about anyone seeing what he had. I got an enormous belly-laugh out of it and proceeded to delete the e-mail.
Even though the coronavirus has slowed down the telephone scammers, I still get calls regularly from them seriously worried that the extended warranty on a car I haven't owned for several years is about to expire. To mess with them, I decided to play along and see how much sympathy I could evoke. I told them I'd lost my job recently, and as a result, I also lost my car since I could no longer afford the payments, but if they were willing to help me out, I'd repay them when I was more solvent by purchasing one of their policies. Their response? Click!
Bless their hearts they keep trying.