If I Die Tonight

I might die tonight.  Not in some heroic act, like going to Ferguson to join the store owners who are defending their property from Ghetto People.  Get a shotgun and head out.  All the riots and looting going on are Illegal!  This has done nothing but reinforce the fact that you are looked at as Ghetto Trash.  What does that have to do with Justice?  Nothing.  Absolutely Nothing.  But back to me possible dying tonight.

My granddaughter is home for the Holidays from a college prep school.  She has been the reason for my living for the past 17 years.  The moment I looked into her big brown eyes, I fell in love with her.  She looked like she had the secrets of the universe in her eyes.  I didn’t get to see her for about the first six months after her life. Baby mother problems with my son.  He didn’t support her and her family was kinda pissed.  But her mother brought her to see me one weekend.  It was on a Saturday.  I saw her every weekend until she was maybe five or six, I remember that.  I couldn’t be greedy with the weekends.  Her other grandparents wanted a few of them too. I had a stuffy nose that Saturday and I didn’t want to pick her up, I couldn’t help myself, I fell in love with her.  It was like with communed mentally speech.  Later, I had more fun showing her things I grew up with and seeing it again thru new eyes.  Butterflies, the zoo and picture books.  She loved books and we indulged a little bit.  After all, I am OCD about reading.   She wrote her own short stories when she was five.  Of course she asked me how to spell things.  I still have the  writing book she used so she could write her own stories.  She loves to talk.  I wonder where she got that from? (giggles)  We used to lie in bed at night and talk about things from what heaven looked liked to Sponge Bob, Thomas the Train or questions about things.  We still like to talk a lot.  Now it’s more grown up stuff like hanging at Starbucks and talking.  I can’t believe my little girl is almost grown now.  I have had to change the way I talk to her.  I don’t want to baby talk her.  She understands so much more about adult things and consequences for her behavior that could really mess up the rest of her life.  I am proud of her.

But anyway back to me dying, she will be over to see me and my house is in serious need of  cleaning.  I have an old house and it collects dust.  A lot, plus do you know how dust, a lot of it, looks hairy?  Especially if you have a dog in the house a lot of the time?  My hot water heater (gas) is out in the open of my small, old house.  In the kitchen, after I cleaned the bathroom I walked thru, looked at it and notice that it was really dusty so here goes the mean green, scrubber and towel.  I sprayed it down and begin scrubbing and wiping.  On the top of the heater is the pipe for the carbon dioxide or what ever and knocked the pipe a little off during the dusting and scrubbing.  I put it back over where it is supposed to be. If I die, my family will know what happened to me faster than the coroner will.  My house is clean and the water heater is clean.  I’m not a champion of housecleaning and everybody knows it.  My father used to tell me that I needed a rake tied to my butt just to pick up everything I drop.  Although I do have a cousin with OCD and it’s over her house cleaning.  Her house is spotless.  Then I have a cousin in-law that is in to the house thing.  She uses power tools and fixes everything And her house is clean.  Even her dogs are clean with ribbons.  I could invite them over for coffee.  Maybe one of them would wash the cups first?  They will be looking around and get this itchy feeling like they need to get up and clean and fix things.  Wouldn’t that be fun!

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About 1wanderingtruthseeker

I'm a fiftish woman that has opinions and passions about nearly everything under the sun. I love a good debate, not name calling. I believe in the Constitution , the Bill of Rights and God. I believe the government which governs the least is the best government of all. I believe in the rights of the people. I dispatched fire trucks, the Po-Po and ambulances for a long time so I have a wicked sense of dark humor and speak fluent sarcasm. I think out loud a lot times. I am offensive. But I'm offensive of everybody. Socially unacceptable, plain spoken and unashamed. If you don't want to be offend, please don't read and if you do, please consider that I'm not politically correct in any sense of the word.
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