In the middle of cutting tags off The Pony's new school clothes, and doing laundry, and cooking supper, I took a jaunt through the living room on the way to harvesting more dirty clothes. As I passed a stack of clean towels folded on the back of the couch, I spied something odd in the La-Z-Boy. Contrary to popular opinion, it was not Hick. Though he was the last person to sit there. And he is, indeed, odd. Hick had arisen mere moments before, stating that he was going to take his Mule for a ride. The four-wheeled kind of Mule.
I moved closer to the La-Z-Boy. What could that be? Then I recognized the offending object. No. It couldn't be. Could it? There is the edge of slothfulness, and then there is the abyss. What I spied in Hick's recliner sent me cartwheeling over the precipice of curiosity, deep into the ravine of disgust. What portion of a man's brain could possibly tell him that this is acceptable?
In case you can't quite tell from that photo, allow me to provide a closeup, courtesy of Genius and his latest expensive lens.
Yes. It's a banana peel. One from which the banana has been consumed. This is the part that people slip on in cartoons. The part that certain people sit on in my house. AND THEN WALK AWAY AND LEAVE IT IN THE LA-Z-BOY!
My domestic life is an uphill battle. I am the Sisyphus of housewives.