Some stuff I saw this week but can’t tell anyone because they wouldn’t believe me anyway: The Good Greens Edition

Sometimes I feel like Cassandra. Remember Cassandra? She was that character in Greek mythology who was granted the gift of incredible insight by the gods, but in the same instance, the gods cursed her so that no one would even believe her.

As I travel about, I see all kinds of fantastical, unbelievable things, but when I tell others about what I have seen, no one will even believe me. So, I just drop them off here, and you have the option of believing them are not; I just want to get them off my chest.

Since our last episode, these are just a few of the crazy things that I have seen or that have happened to me.

Penguins in My Bed

If you have been following this blog for any length of time, you know that when I eat pork or fried or spicy food before I go to sleep, I have these crazy, fantastical nightmares. Yep, I have had another crazy dream.

So, a few days ago I just happened to be in the vicinity of my daughter’s school, so I decided to stop and pick her up and take her to lunch so that we could spend a little quality time together. I asked her where she wanted to go, and she recommended this little rib joint that we have not been to in quite some time.

We went to the rib joint, and we both ordered a rib sandwich and fries absolutely drenched in the spicy sauce. She is her father’s daughter. But before I even got up from the table, “the ‘itis” was all over me. I could barely make the drive home.

When I got home, I lay down to take a nap and fell into a deep, deep sleep. And while sleeping I began to have this all too vivid, all too lifelike dream. I dreamed that about a half dozen or so penguins jumped up into the bed with me and began squawking uncontrollably. I kept trying to shoo them out of the bed so I could return to sleep, but they kept squawking louder and louder.

Finally, I raised my head up to look at them and found that their feathers seemed awfully dry and dusty. So, I began to appeal to them to just quit squawking, and I would find someone to take them to water. But they just got louder and louder…

…and then my wife shook me awake. When I awoke, there stood my wife with my two children standing behind her with their eyes as big as saucers. My wife told me that I had been calling my children to come get the penguins out of the bed and get them to water for a while.

I immediately called my partner RiPPa to tell him about this foolishness. RiPPa told me that he was busy with his new baby daughter and didn’t have time to play games with me. I called OneChele and she was even less congenial.

You believe me don’t you?


Black Santa Drops His Weed

So I attended a charity Christmas party during the break which featured a black Santa. During the party as the organizers lined the children up to speak to Santa and receive their gift, I excused myself to the restroom.

I entered the restroom to find Black Santa putting the finishing touches on his whole Santa Claus getup. We exchanged greetings, and he departed. But just as he left, I saw a suspicious looking rolled up baggie on the floor. I took a closer look, and my suspicions were confirmed. I thought to myself, “Did Black Santa drop this?”

And then I got my answer. Black Santa stuck his head back inside the door and asked, “Brother, did you happen to see a bag of weed somewhere in here?”

I pointed to it. He retrieved it and thanked me.

I immediately fled the restroom to tell my wife so that she could help me figure out how to handle this. Did I tell the organizers that Black Santa was really a big pothead? Did I keep it to myself? But my wife just looked at me incredulously: “So you’re saying you just saw Santa smoking weed in the bathroom?”

“No, he wasn’t smoking it. He just has it with him! He put it in the inside pocket of his Santa jacket”

“So he just showed you his stash out of the blue?”

“No, he didn’t ‘just show it to me.’ He dropped it and picked it up and left.”

She just wouldn’t believe me. In fact, she suggested that I pour out my eggnog, surrender the car keys to her, and just blog about it when I got home. I just dropped it. But I can but only admit that Black Santa was the merriest, jolliest old elf that I have ever witnessed.

The Secret Ingredient to Good Greens

One Saturday during the winter break, I stopped by one of my fraternity brother’s house just to wish him and his family a happy holiday. When I arrived, his wife and mother-in-law had just returned from a marathon shopping expedition, and his mother-in-law sat in the family room with her feet soaking inside this big, huge, blue-speckled cooking pot.

We had a wonderfully uproarious conversation. His mother-in-law was pretty funny. We finally got around to talking about the cooking pot she was soaking her feet in. I commented that on one side of the pot, the speckles came together to form a frowning face because the pot was not being used for its expressed purpose.

Anyway, we enjoyed each other’s company so much that she invited me to return the following evening with my family for dinner. Of course the very next evening I returned with my family in tow. And let me tell you one thing—this woman put on a spread! But as I looked around the kitchen at all the delectable dishes she had prepared, my eyes fell upon a particularly pot on the stove, a big, huge, blue-speckled cooking pot with a distinctive pattern which looked as if the pot was frowning.

I went over to take a peek in the pot. Greens! And just then from behind me I heard my wife say, “Miss May Francis, I cannot wait to taste your greens. They smell absolutely delicious!”

Immediately, I ran into the family room like Will Smith running to save the world in any of his movies to warn my family about the greens. I got to my children first.

“Listen, don’t eat the greens. That woman had her feet in that pot that she cooked them in.”

My daughter looked at me curiously. “What are you talking about, Dad? She just went in there and put her foot in the pot?”

My son was even less credulous. He told my daughter, “I think Dad has a little too much time on his hands lately. He seems to be just making up stuff. The other night I heard him telling something to Mother about smoking weed in the bathroom with Santa at that party. Mother was not amused. We need to find him a creative outlet.”

Undaunted, I went to warn my wife. “Don’t eat those greens! That woman had her feet in the pot”

My wife questioned me, “Well, when did that happen? Since I’ve been here she hasn’t moved from that spot on the sofa. Did they bring the pot of greens in here?”

“No, see yesterday when I was over here…”

She cut me off and would not allow me to finish. She instead suggested that I put down the scotch, surrender the car keys to her, and blog about it when I got home.

And as we were eating dinner, everyone complimented the cook on what a delicious dinner it was, especially the greens. Then my fraternity brother intoned, “Mother May Francis, these greens are good. You must have used your secret ingredient because you really put your foot in this batch!” I began to choke on a lima bean.

After the whole choking episode ended, I loaded up my plate with greens. If you can’t beat them, join them. And everyone was right. The greens were absolutely delicious