Just throwup? Impossible.

Kay's sick and Mark's on the roof

 

    ROOFTOP – There’s a pretty good chance we’re sitting on or near a wasps nest. That single bee keeps easing himself closer to me. This metal roof has some ridges and overlays that the smarter insects managed to homestead. Wasps, praying mantises, metallic woodborers… No, june bugs or dung beetles.

    There’s probably a nest of wasps in the attic, and the entrance is beneath an uncaulked place behind us. At least it’s not raccoons. Our neighbor came over last night to borrow our flashlight. She said there was a raccoon in her attic. A better neighbor might’ve gone over and helped eradicate the creature. Instead, she left with my flashlight.

    If I get any animal larger than a mouse living somewhere within the house, I’ll go ahead and sell the place. – “Sir, your house looks great. Is there anything I need to know about it?” – “Well, there is a badger in the attic; or skunks under the house; or a snake in the utility room.”  Any of those scenarios would be enough to for me call the brothers and rent a U-haul.

    Whoa! Yes, it sounds like incoming rifle fire. While there are no less than three gun ranges within listening distance of the house, that noise is not related. What you’re hearing is the sound of acorns hitting the upper part of the metal roof. They do make a cracking sound.

    I think this will be a good season for deer and squirrels, ‘cause the acorn crop is big. Those things are smashed all over my driveway and are almost in piles around the Jungle Gym.

This would be a good year for the American Indian. Indians never established a deer season. Or, squirrel season for that matter. No hunting season. That’s why the sasquatch is now extinct. Just a guess. By the way, sasquatch are like deer, elk and fish. Their plural is the same as their singular.  If you told someone that you saw eight sasquatches, they’d probably laugh at you.

 And, speaking of laughing, there hasn’t been a whole lot at ground level for me to giggle about. Kay is just now getting over being sick. She went to the doctor just as she started getting better. That’s how it usually works. I don’t know why.

Kay’s sickness began last Wednesday night. I woke up at a noise coming from the bathroom. I immediately felt to see if Kay was still in bed with me. She wasn’t. That cleared up two things. One: I wasn’t going to have to sell the house. Two: Kay was obviously not well.

I whispered, “Darling, are you okay?” I guess I was afraid I might wake up attic badger. Anyway, Kay yelled “I’m just throwing up. Go back to sleep.” Can you believe that? “Just throwing up.” I have never “just” thrown up in my life.

I have horrendously, grossly and hideously thrown up. But, never simply thrown up. Remember the movie “Alien” when the creature comes out of the guy’s chest? That’s the way I feel when I’m throwing up, only the alien can’t get out my chest, so he starts crawling to my throat.

After listening to Kay for half a minute, I got sympathy nausea. A friend of mine once described his kidney stone attack with such vividness that I managed to pass a stone that evening. I empathize to the point that when I say, “I feel your pain.” I actually do. And, let me tell you, Kay was sick.

I did not leave that girl alone for a week. “Kay, can I get you something? Do you want some ice cream?” – No. – “Jello?” – No thank you – “A grilled cheese?” – Heaven’s no!

She’s feeling better now, but still isn’t up to eating anything on my suggested food list. I asked her a little while ago if she wanted one of the last Almond Snickers, and she said, “No, dear. Look, why don’t you go sit on the roof?” So, here we are.

    The only halfway good thing about Kay having been sick is that she wasn’t up to eating any of the leftover Halloween Almond Snickers. I got Snickers with almonds instead of peanuts ‘cause I wanted to test ‘em. I don’t hand children just any ol’ thing. After feasting on a bag of miniatures, I’m here totell you that I could not identify the crunch or the taste of an almond anywhere in that thing.

So, I’ve found that Peanut Snickers are a whole lot better than almond, because almonds are more expensive than peanuts so they leave ‘em out. It’s genius. I don’t know why they don’t see a Cashew Snicker. 

What? Right, we’re about out of time. No, no, feel free to head on down. I think I’ll stay up here awhile and give Kay a longer break. I might see if I’m sitting on the entrance to the nest of wasps.

That lone bee is getting uncomfortably close to my sitting part. I have never had a bee sting me on my rear. I would not call the sting “just” a bee sting. It would be a screaming-jump-off-the-roof sting. You sure you don’t want stick around to watch? Right. – Next time.

End
Mark@rooftopwriter.com