One for the Record Books
My Dear Readership,
The protagonists of today's story is my twin sister. Yes, you dolts, I do have a twin sister. You just can't see her--just like her audience cannot see me. Odd the way invisibility works, that's what.
Now, before you get on to me for sounding like the delightful, yet fictitious character Rachel Lynde, I will continue. As I said, today's protagonist is my twin sister.
I decided to drop in at home after a long and arduous journey to--oh. Wait. If I told you where, I would be constrained to sever your head and lock it in a safe for the next seventy years. (Don't worry if the "joke" went over your cranium--it's somewhat obscure in most circles.)
Anyway, as I was saying, I decided to swing by and visit the family. Racheal and our youngest sister were busily cleaning strawberries, clicking right along like regular old professionals at this topping and spot-removal business.
None of my sisters like spiders. Perhaps you already knew that. But it is very much the truth. Granted, they normally do not screech, scream, go pale, or faint upon sight of the eight-legged creatures. The result is typically a very dead spider.
Well, along and along, Racheal glanced down, only to spot a rather innocuous gray garden spider--sitting on her left middle finger!
So far, nothing record breaking about this situation--not even the bit of an "OH!" she let out.
However, that "Oh" morphed into something more akin to a yell of pain and the next thing I know, the girl had blood running off her hand!
This, my friends, is where the record-breaking enters the picture.
In her haste to "keel" that spider, she struck out at it with her knife with a downward, scraping motion. Only problem was, the blade was down not up!
The resultant slice in her finger is roughly one-half to three-quarters of an inch long and how deep I was not allowed to see.
Oh, and as to the spider? He did die, but only from the butt of her hand as she threw the knife down, and went to milk the blood from her finger a little harder. The poor creature died with one fell swoop.
And now you see--it's not safe living with my twin sister.
Farewell until the next time I reemerge...
P.S. My dear Racheal,
I am extremely hurt that you always categorize my scribblings under "Nonesense"! Fie on you!
Anyway, where have you been?
Don't ask. You know very well that I cannot answer that question.
And really, you are the nonesensical one. Cutting yourself wide open over a spider!! Goose.
I like picking on you.
Don't be gone so long next time, ya hear?
Shucks. Gone. Just like that. Ornery stinker. Ol' cowlicked curly top gets harder to hang on to the older he gets. I wonder what kinds of adventures he'll get into between now and next time he pops up to scribble on my blog...he never does tell me much. Top Secret...bah. I think he likes to pretend he's a spook.