Shades of Cray Cray
When I was finally able to get Ma placed in a nursing facility, I made the decision to give up my Girl Cave and take over Ma's bedroom.
I am entirely too old to be humping it across the yard in the middle of the night when nature calls.
Anywho, this meant simultaneously going through Ma's things, deciding what to do with it all, moving my stuff back over to the trailer and hauling out all the excess in the process.
I'm not done, but I'm making progress. Slow, tedious progress.
Ma had four dressers in her room, none of which contained a stitch of her clothing. It was all pictures, old makeup, baby clothes. The Amazon and I wheeled and dealed, eventually deciding she'd keep one, I'd keep the ginormous Victorian monstrosity and we'd get rid of the one with the bad stain job and contact paper top. I took a load of stuff to a local charity thrift store and they agreed to send someone out to pick up the dresser. There was just no way I could load it on the truck myself.
After about a week of walking around the dresser on my front porch, I called another charity thrift store over in the next town. They had fliers up, saying they'd gladly pick up any donations.
You wouldn't think it would be so hard to give something away.
Last week I got a call from the lady who runs the place, hoping to arrange a time they could come pick it up on Friday.
So Friday morning I got up around 7:30, which is like the ass crack of dawn for me on a day off. I brushed my teeth, put on a bra and tied my hair back. I didn't bother changing out of my leopard print stretchy pajammy britches.
No need to get all gussied up.
Around 8-ish, the phone rang. The voice on the other end was deep, very southern and made my heart skip a little. "Ma'am? This is Skip from (whatever the name of that place was.) We're at the bottom of the mountain heading into town now."
I don't remember, but I'm sure I said something sexy and alluring like, "OKIE DOKIE!!"
They pulled up a couple of minutes later, a short, stubby little woman and a man. A sorta youngish looking man, with a slightly dark complexion, black hair with just a touch of gray at the temples and full sleeve tribal tatts.
The Amazon would later say that she could tell I was flirting by the goofy way I was laughing while I was outside. I don't think I was. I think I was just trying to be friendly.
The older lady (who was probably actually close to my age) suggested they remove the drawers first to lighten the load, which they did. As Mr. MuscleySexyPants removed the drawers, I spotted something shiny inside the dresser. I thought I had gotten everything out, but I didn't think to look back behind the drawers. I reached inside and retrieved what I thought would be a toy left behind by one of the youngins, but no.
I found myself standing on my front porch between the short stubby woman and Mr. MuscleySexyPants, in my leopard print pajammy britches, my mouth agape, my eyes big as biscuits as I lifted my hand, letting the pretty metal handcuffs dangle above my head.
Not the fuzzy kind you get at the racy store at the mall. No. Regulation, cop toting, I mean bidness kinda handcuffs.
What. The. Hell.
Mr.MuscleySexyPants giggled like a little girl. I know my face was blood red. There were jokes. Mr. MuscleySexyPants said he might want to meet my Ma.. if they were really hers.
I promised them I'd bring them more stuff this Friday. I've got two big box fulls packed up. Maybe Mr. MuscleySexyPants will be there.
Think he'll remember me?
Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.
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