Yeah, that’s me. So the Bear works second shift, which means I’m home alone for the bulk of the evening. I’m actually okay with that, his choice of TV shows quite frankly sucks, so having the TV all to myself and not being subjected to smirking Hawkeye or fake dumb hick smiles of Andy Griffith and the accent of Gomer Pyle that makes my skin crawl, is not a bad deal.
I live in the country. It’s beautiful back here, quiet, isolated, home to many an axe murderer. Keeping me safe from those axe murderers, or murderers of any type, is Maverick’s mission in life. However, my choice of TV shows tends to run to the Investigation Discovery channel which is full of, you guessed it, axe murderers.
Happily sewing away upstairs tonight, I was rudely interrupted by fierce barking, the likes of which would scare the most intrepid ANTIFA member into setting his own pants on fire.
I’m no longer upstairs. Thanks, Maverick, Mommah is now downstairs where the guns are and the doors are and the keys are close at hand in case we need to make a fast exit.
Oh, and if we do? Don’t give me this, “I’m not getting in that car!” routine or I might just leave you to face the axe murderer on your own.
Oh hell, you could probably take him on and win.