Dirty Jobs

My poor husband.
Sometimes I feel bad for him
having to put up with me.

There are some things that I just don't care about...
Like keeping the frig organized.
As long as I can find what I'm looking for...
...well...as long as I know something is in there...
...ok, well...as long as stuff doesn't fly out at me when I open it,
I'm good.

After we go shopping and are putting stuff away,
I catch it...
"What on earth is goin' on in this frig?"
Now that my youngest son is home from college
I can blame him...
"Aaron's home you know...'wink wink' "
(see Nov. "Percy did it")
So he painstakingly, puts everything in order...
again...
while mumbling to himself about disorder.


But some things do bother me...BEARS.
Russell has to walk out with me to close the chicken coop...
...every single night...
(well unless someone is visiting...then he makes them go!)
cause I'm afraid of the dark...and bears
I try to be brave and go by myself sometimes.
But I don't even get past the corner of the house.
I'm paralyzed by thoughts of being eaten by a bear.
(This comes from a book I read to the kids when
they were little..."Wild Bear Stories from Kodiak Island"...
I've never been the same since. And why was
I reading this to the kids at such a tender age?
No clue...let's go on)
Everyone tells me that a cougar is far worse...
that they'll stalk you.
But the thought of them eating me
doesn't bother me in the least.
It's just the bears!
I have a girlfriend...Yvonne.
She's like..."Well, I figure if the bear gets me...
it's God's Will...God saw fit for that bear to eat me.
And I'll be in Heaven!"
I don't have a problem with God's Will
or being in Heaven...
it's the being ripped apart limb from limb
part that I struggle with!
So every night. 365 days a year,
he mumbles about not having shoes he can just slip on,
(I bought him Rubber Boots for Christmas hoping to
put an end to that complaint),
sighs, and trudges out to the chicken coop
with me so I can close the girls coop door,
so the bears won't get them.

Yeah, He's got a dirty job...
but someone's gotta do it!