Once upon a time, in a lifetime far, far, away.....Secret Agent Man and I took a vacation without the offspring. It remains for me a fond, yet distant memory. Mr. B and Babs (my mom and dad) came to stay in smalltownland and took loving care of Toots and the Deerslayer. Secret Agent Man and I hiked in Bryce Canyon and Zion National Park. We saw many beautiful sunsets, ate at fine restaurants, and did not listen to whining/crying/complaining/. It was all s'wonderful.
However, while we were away Mr. B was hard at work in smalltownland. You see, he can be quite the prankster. He enjoys many jokes that other people don't always find funny. While in the local grocery store he ran into a "relative". (See post below concerning relatives/rules) This relative actually has the colorful nickname of "Whistle". This is not because he can just whistle....the man can play music on an air drill. No....I am not lying. He is quite famous in our small town. Well, Whistle asked Mr. B why he was in town and Mr. B proceeded to tell him ALL about our vacation. Except that Mr. B told Whistle that we had gone to PARIS. And, apparently, went on and on with many details about our travels IN PARIS.
So, a few weeks later I am at a church dinner. It is very crowded and seating is limited. I am balancing a paper plate loaded with church lady goodness. I plop myself down and it is literally elbow to elbow at this table. I look to my right and my elbow is touching WHISTLE! Yikes, he was not the tablemate I was looking for. Before I can jump up and run away Whistle says, "How was your trip to Paris?" I, unaware of what Mr. B had been up to, was quite puzzled. I explained where we had gone and then Whistle let me know where he got his information.
I called Mr. B later that night. He was laughing so hard he could barely speak into the phone. I have no doubt that tears were rolling down his cheeks. Is it any wonder that I don't feel bad about posting pictures of my dad, on this blog, of him wearing women's wigs?