The table was set as if the preacher had come to have supper with a family from the congregation. Southern hospitality was at it's best. The china was out and the glass goblets were full of water and sweet tea. Yellow napkins were rolled with care and placed in cute spring napkin holders. There were even 2 forks at each place setting! (Which means, "we take our dessert seriously") The meal smelled amazing and the chocolate meringue pie was a picture of perfection. Best of all was the company. A vibrant red head gleeful chatted throughout the night sitting beside her fashion sensible and highly sarcastic husband. At the head of the table was a grey haired fisherman who sat and listed intently to his wife adding in needed information when necessary. His wife, sitting beside him, was an excellent cook, a sweet southern lady. (Think Paula Dean meets Olivia Walton and stir in a little Aunt Bee and there you have her) Next to her, I sat listening to the conversation with much interest. When suddenly I hear these words, "I drowned a skunk once...."
Excuse me? What did you just say? It was not the spunky red head who spoke, neither was it the sarcastic husband or the old fisherman. No, those words had escaped out of the mouth of the sweet old southern lady! Next thing I knew she was explaining the whole incident as bouts of laughter filled the room. The entire time I sat there flabbergasted that this sweet little lady could be so cruel. No matter how sweet she was you could see there was no admiration for this filthy animal. In fact, it sounded as though she detested them. Who could blame her? We are talking about a skunk people! And at times like these I can't help but think, "Man, Noah's wife must have been amazing! To live for an entire year without stomping out of existence one annoying insect or tossing out the window one disgusting animal. Either she was a super woman, or Noah kept her locked up on the third floor.""What kills a skunk is the publicity it gives itself." -Abraham Lincoln
Anyways, back to the matter at hand. Elvira knew something about varmints. I mean that is how she got in this mess in the first place. She had set a trap for her neighbor trying to catch those elusive chipmunks. What she didn't expect was her neighbor to come by the next morning and say, "Elvira, we have a problem." Of course by "problem" he meant a "nice sized skunk smashed into a little chipmunk trap under his house." Pretty sure if I were her I my eyes would have been huge at this point and schemes of how to get rid of that skunk would be pulsating through my brain. My first thought would be, "Hunter, Caleb, Garrett, GRAB YOUR GUN!" but you know, not everyone has 3 brothers to turn to in her hour of need. Thankfully, Elvira had another plan.
As she stood in front of that menacing assailant smashed into her trap she said, "Well, I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna drown him." Even though we had heard her say it once before, it didn't take the shock or the laughter from leaving our faces as we listened to her riveting tale come to fruition. "So, I got myself a rope and tied it onto the top of the cage and took him down to Milly's dock that was on the lake." She said, adding that Milly wasn't home so she would never know. "And I dropped into the water and waited a few minutes." Poor Michael, the sarcastic husband, for some reason he has trouble with the thought of any animal dying. (I really don't know why he's not a vegetarian.) I pretty sure his face went pale at this point and probably paler as she said, "I lifted it back up and that thing wasn't dead! So I dropped him back in and waited a little longer. I lifted it up again and that sucker still wasn't dead!" By this time Michael had to interject on behalf of all skunks everywhere and stated that he was going to put scuba gear under that dock for the poor things so that Elvira couldn't hurt any more. After dunking the poor thing about 3 or 4 times and getting sprayed at one point when she brought him out of the water, the varmint died. Which is when the question, "What did you do with him?" came into play. Let's just say the little fella had a "sea burial."What's even funnier is that Milly came home a while later and called Elvira's neighbor to come help her bury a rodent that had washed up on her shore. Low and behold it was the skunk! So, now I know what to do with next time I am faced with an unwanted skunk. Just one question for Elvira,
"Have you perfected the amount of time needed to drown a skunk?"
No comments:
Post a Comment