This 'n' That

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, especially those of a certain age (old), 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 deathtrap at 70 miles-per-hour on a country road. They couldn't when they were young and they dang sure can't when the pass the big 7-0.

Why is it that men take speed limit signs as mere suggestions? David insists that all speed limit signs come with a five mile-per-hour padding. But my biggest aggravation 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 at least two miles telling him he needs to be in the opposite lane he insists on driving in or he'll miss our turn only for him to act surprised when I point out our turn as we fly by. SMH

I saw a commercial today for a heating pad. What's so special about that? This was not just any old heating pad, this pad was weighted so if a random stranger enters your house and tries to blow your heating pad off your body with a powerful leaf-blower, you're set.

Ṡeriously. The commercial showed a woman lying in her bed with a heating pad on her stomach and some guy walks in and blows it away with a leaf-blower. Then she switches to the new and improved weighted pad 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 ridiculous places.

Just the other day, I spent a good thirty minutes hunting for a small hand-held drink mixer that I needed for my recipe. I looked in the original spot then any place else I thought I might have decided was a better place to store it. After I gave up, I went back to the first place, dug deeper and sure enough, there it was all along. AAARRRGGGHHH!

This is starting to happen more and more often. So I guess the take-away here is – never reorganize your house. Never move anything from its original storage area. Never let your husband or grandkids put the dishes away if you don't want to spend all day playing hide-and-go-seek with your cooking utensils. David has lived in this house for 17 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, so I made my own tool kit is beside the point. LOL

The last topic for today is scammers. You've gotta give them points for never giving up or taking no for an answer. I got a hilarious (to me) e-mail from a scammer threatening to send pics of me doing naughty stuff 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 nice 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 a really good laugh out of it and proceeded to delete the e-mail. I kind of wish I hadn't so I could go back a re-read it anytime I needed a good chuckle.

Even though the virus has slowed down the telephone scammers, I still get regular calls from them worried about me and my car not being covered by one of their extended warranties. I guess I might be tempted to talk to them if I knew where this particular car is now. I haven't owned it in four or five years. But, bless their hearts, they keep trying.