Noun: A punishment or fate that someone deserves.
I spent Saturday at AnonD (& her hubby, AnonR) HQ. We gathered to watch the OSU/michigan game. AnonD is a michigan fan. AnonR and I have the good sense to back The Ohio State Buckeyes. It was a beeeeautiful day that allowed me to be in flip flops at the end of November. Can I get an amen? Nosh and drink were in plenty. The Buckeyes had won 9 of the past 10 meetings. It was stacking up to be a grand footloose and fancy free kinda day.
Earlier in the week AnonD and I were chatting on the phone when she told me a friend of AnonR's was joining in on the game watching festivities. AnonD: "AnonR invited some guy over to watch the game...I don't know what his deal is, but he used to be one of AnonR's martial art class buddies. I don't know if he's single, or cute, I've only met him once and that was a while ago, but I feel like he's...old."
Now AnonD is a self proclaimed cradle robber. Or as she likes to frame it, a "pre-vette". She's always liked a younger man. Long before "cougar" was ever a thing. AnonD is a couple of years older than me and AnonR is a few years younger than me. Often, when I say a guy is a 'child' (aka: under 35, in BBG speak) she says he's cute. As her "old" might be 42, I took her words with a grain of NaCl.
That is, until as I was sitting at my appointed BBG island in the (almost done!) kitchen, when
Once the guys were safetly in another room
As we entered the safety of the kitchen, she said she felt very "Chuck Woolery". Since the days of 'two and two', Chuck Woolery has been our code for doin', sayin' or feelin' sumthin' onrey, sometimes bordering on evil.
For some reason we found ourselves whispering (?) about how, "How old were you when you first tried moonshine?" sounded anything like an inquiry on your children, and how when "my two sons" popped out, how neither of us was able to look at the other. ...And how it was going to be sooooo nice to have company in hell.
Now a few weeks ago, AnonD had informed me that a finger can be used to make a penis. Of course, this information was accompanied by comments of how that's probably better than nuthin', however that neither of us ever wanted to see one. Never. And of course, this was peppered with school girl like giggles. Shortly after that conversation and YouTube video on the matter (click) sharing, AnonD was mysteriously stricken with a spider bite on one of her fingers necessitating a trip to the Urgent Care and several days of antibiotics. Karma bitch slapped. Mock a finger penis, almost lose one of your own.
AnonD brought that up as a cautionary tale as we tried to settle ourselves from our now tear inducing laughter over the Gramps situation. AnonD wandered out during half time to perform shit patrol in the back yard. (3 chocolate labs, plus one visiting very active free range pooper [Uncle John] make such a patrol a necessity) I kept her company and used it as a soakin' up the sun/ smoking opportunity. I stepped off of the cement patio to put my cig* out on the side before throwing it away. As I was doing so, the red hot end of it bounced off the cement off the grass and on to my toe.
While the red hot ember resting on my toe hurt, my only reaction as I knocked it off was, "yep. That's about right." I walked out into the yard to tell/show AnonD of my comeuppance for being Chuck Woolery.
Sometimes comeuppance takes a while to rear it's head and exact it's revenge. Sometimes it's by the end of your smoke. What we put out always comes back. Be nice when you can, but when you can't be ready. And watch your toes.
*Smoking is bad. I realize that. However, as I'm not a BBG of "means"
and have no dependants, I consider it my retirement plan.
P.S. The Buckeyes lost.