Revenge served up close and personal

 

Any person who rhapsodizes about hanging laundry in fresh air to dry has never done so in the Midwest, and for seven people in the family.  I would have gladly invited them to spend a week with me on our farm. Also, they have never had to iron that laundry, a sizable chore for many afternoons. 

blueberrybucket.tumblr.com

Given that thought, it is important to confirm a few things that are probably a plus.  Hanging and un-hanging was a peaceful time, for no one bothered me.  If they had, they were pressed into service.  Even though it was stinking hot, being alone for awhile was a pleasant change.

One Wednesday as we prepared to attend Wednesday prayer meeting, I was rushing to take down laundry. It was early dusk and was a hurry-up job: remove clothespin, fold item, place in the bushel basket, and move on very quickly.  Once the folded underwear was distributed, my teenage self had to hurry to get ready.

Some time into the service, my teenage brothers began to squirm and cry out.  Then one by one, each leaped to their feet and ran out the church, screaming.

While this pleased me to no end, this event confused me mightily. Whatever their pain was, it was their due since they were each evil masochistic sub-humans. 

Sweat Bee

  
Later, it was discovered that there were sweat bees in their underpants. Yes, those bees with a short-term sting that hurt like the dickens. They are unusual in that they fly around in early dusk and evening. God bless them.  

I was certainly innocent in this, totally innocent. For some reason, the bees had selected their underpants. Why, I don't know. But, my joy knew no bounds.

I fell asleep with a giggle and a smile. Revenge happens when it is least expected.

These sites are blog posts where the evil masochistic brothers made my life a living hell throughout many years.

God bless you, Marvel Comics


The Easter Bunny Cometh

Revenge of the Halictidae

Ah. Romance in the Laundry Pinterest

Any person who rhapsodizes about hanging laundry in fresh air to dry has never done so in the Midwest, and for seven people in the family.  I would have gladly invited them to spend a week with me on our farm. Also, they have never had to iron that laundry, a sizable chore for many afternoons. 

blueberrybucket.tumblr.com

Given that thought, it is important to confirm a few things that are probably a plus.  Hanging and un-hanging was a peaceful time, for no one bothered me.  If they had, they were pressed into service.  Even though it was stinking hot, being alone for awhile was a pleasant change.

One Wednesday as we prepared to attend Wednesday prayer meeting, I was rushing to take down laundry. It was early dusk and was a rush job: remove clothespin, fold item, place in the bushel basket, and move on very quickly.  Once the folded underwear was distributed, my teenage self had to hurry to get ready.

Some time into the service, my teenage brothers began to squirm and cry out.  Then one by one, each leaped to their feet and ran out the church, screaming.

While this pleased me to no end, this event confused me mightily. Whatever their pain was, it was their due since they were each evil masochistic sub-humans. 

Sweat Bee

  

Later, it was discovered that there were sweat bees in their underpants. Yes, those bees with a short-term sting that hurt like the dickens. They are unusual in that they fly around in early dusk and evening. God bless them.  

I was certainly innocent in this, totally innocent. For some reason, the bees had selected their underpants. Why, I don't know. But, my joy knew no bounds.

I fell asleep with a giggle and a smile. Revenge happens when it is least expected.

These sites are blog posts where the evil masochistic brothers made my life a living hell throughout many years.

God bless you, Marvel Comics


The Easter Bunny Cometh

Breasts? Really?

Source

Nancy’s clutched the Bible and stared at the verses she was to read aloud.  Song of Solomon 7:7 and Song of Solomon 8:1-----Seriously?  I am supposed to read THAT aloud??

Nancy whispered to Sister Opal, “Would you trade verses with me?  I would really appreciate it.”

She must have sounded too desperate, for Sister Opal turned her down flat, holding onto her Psalms 42: 1, 2 tightly. 

Preacher began calling on the verses to be read.  

'What'll I do...what'll I do?  I can't say those words.'  Her mind raced.  'Should I go to the bathroom?  Throw up here in the Sanctuary....'  The answer came from something her Speech and Debate teacher told her.  So she did exactly that.

Nancy’s turn came.  She stood tall, pulled her shoulders back and tilted her chin up. Clearing her throat, while making eye contact with the expectant faces turned to see her, Nancy spoke in a clear and loud voice, pausing at the commas.  She emphasized the important nouns, and let her voice reach to all. Just as she had been coached during Speech Contests.

“Song of Solomon 7:7, This thy stature is like to a palm tree, and thy breasts to clusters of grapes…chapter 8:8,  O that thou wert as my brother, that sucked the breast of my mother…”

Source

Silence fell across the small sanctuary, then some snickers erupted and throats cleared.  Flustered, Preacher looked at Nancy and then down at his list.  “Let’s move on, shall we?” 

Sister Opal leaned over and whispered to Nancy, “There are some verses that shouldn’t oughta be in the Bible.  That there is some of ‘em.”