Wednesday, March 9, 2011

SENIOR CITIZEN ON STRIKE

I am sitting here chuckling to myself at what I am about to put down for posterity. My husband keeps glancing at me because he evidently knows I am up to something so I am trying to keep from snickering. Even I cannot believe the foolishness I am about to write. It may not get posted when I get through and see how petty this may sound- I am a 71 year old great grandmother- married 54 years. My sister-in-law has cancer, my 9 month old grand nephew is pulling through brain surgery, my son just had shoulder surgery, grandson had knee surgery and now niece, Debbie, has breast cancer and I am aggravated and writing about: CRUMBS ALL OVER THE COUNTERS!

When I go into the kitchen to fix lunch-crumbs. To fix dinner-same thing-crumbs. The kitchen is straight when I fix the coffee pot at night for the next day but when I turn on the light the next morning, there they are-crumbs. They are like rabbits-they seem to multiply.

Now I brought this phenomenon of the mystically appearing crumbs to the attention of the only other person in the household  a few weeks ago and he said, "is it really a big deal?" I said "yes, when you are the one who has been cleaning them up for 54 years". I thought that maybe, just maybe, the crumbs would not appear anymore but lo and behold, there they are. 

I hate arguing, so, offbeat as it may sound for someone who has cleaned up 1000's of crumbs among other things behind many people, I am on strike. Oh, the laundry is getting done, dishes, cleaning, sewing, quilting, cooking, etc. but the crumbs are piling up [see photos below]. The cooking, however, is subject to join the way of the crumbs very soon, then the kitchen completely.

A strike, you see, has been the only way in the past to get my point across. Over 40 years ago it took a couple of times of running out of socks and underwear to get husband dear to dig them out from under the bed and all over the bedroom floor where he had thrown them and into the laundry room to be washed. Something I had been doing til I decided enough was enough-if clothes are not by the washer, they don't get washed.   The most recent point was made a few months ago. Papers stopped being piled on the floor beside a certain recliner when the vacuum was parked with the papers in front of the chair. No amount of telling not to put them there worked until he had to finish vacuuming a few times.

I am biting my tongue to keep from saying anything to see how long it will take and my tongue is just about chewed off. I am still chuckling at myself and to myself that a 71 year old, gray haired, supposedly mature, great grandmother would just not go ahead and take a couple of minutes to wipe the counters. This may be Custer's last stand. I have my yardstick ready to measure how high they may get. I don't know if Ripley's Believe It Or Not has a crumb pile category but if it does, we may just win.

So far, two days and counting.

I am honoring the handsome gentlemen at the bottom of the page who are family members that have served and are serving in our armed forces.
My brother, Jim, was in the Air Force
Nephew, Brian, is in the Marines.
Grandson, Joey, was in the Navy
Son, Jeff, also in the Navy
Nephew, Aaron, was in the Marines
Brother-in-law, Jerry, served in the Army