The Water PotPosted: July 18, 2012 | |
“The birds sure do like that thingy,” Mom stated as she stared out the dining room window.
“Which ‘thingy’ is that?” Bill asked from the couch in the Arizona Room.
“You know, that thingy they like to sit on out there,” she offered as clarification.
“The patio table?”
“No, the other one,” she replied.
“The patio chairs?”
“No, the water pot,” she explained as she lost interest and meandered toward her loveseat.
“Water pot?” Bill repeated, looking across the couch at me for clarification. I just shrugged, content to let him continue the conversation, which he did, by asking the obvious question, “What are you talking about?”
“You know, the water pot that the birds like to sit on.”
“Are you talking about the bird bath?”
“That’s what I said,” she replied, pressing the ON button on the remote. The volume exploded out of the TV from a car chase on an afternoon rerun of Cops.
“No you didn’t,” he yelled over the sudden burst of tire screeching and sirens coming from the living room. “You said thingy!”
“You know what I meant. By the way, did you see the empty bottle of Hawthorn Berry pills on the microwave,” she hollered back at him.
He apparently chose not to continue shouting over the TV and wandered into the living room. “Yeah, I’ll order you some more. What’s that stuff for any way?”
“Oh, it’s suppose to help with brain function,” she said. ”
“And how’s that working out for you?” he said over his shoulder as he walked back into the Arizona Room.
“Pretty good, I guess. It’s probably why I can still do my crosswords every day,” she finished with a grin.
“And wouldn’t you just love to see her answers to some of those completed puzzles?” I commented. “Another name for bird bath? Hmmm, how about bird bowl. No wait, maybe water pot! Same number of letters, so I guess either one would fit.”