Bacon Scrapins – “Gettin’ a Good Mudder’s Murder!”
Bacon Scrapins are the little bits of meat left in the greasy fry pan. They’re tasty, but the nutrition needs searching for. This tale is a bacon scrapin.
Jorge and I had been walking back from a session of pickleball and we paused at the bottom of his drive to chat.
He explained the difficulties of getting ‘straight’ wood off a pile at the MegaWoodWare place, and how it took two people to get boards properly aligned for fastening. “Big job!”, he concluded.
After I pause, I offered, “Yah! Big job. I’m lookin’ for a good mudder!”
He squinted his eyes and asked, “What’s wrong with the muth’r you had?”
“I never had a mudder. Unless you count the time when we did the reno. on the ceilings and kitchen walls before we moved in.”
“Your muth’r did your ceilings?”
“Sure, set up scaffold and went right to it. Works for a private contractor. Unavailable.”
“Your muth’r works for a private contractor, not deceased?”
“Nah, the mudder’s still kickin’, works for a private contractor. Unavailable.’”
“Your muth’r’s still kicking. Not deceased?”
“Not that I’ve heard. Still mudderin’.”
“So, you’re looking for another muth’r?”
“Yup. A good one!”
“And your muth’r was a bad one?”
“Nah, I told you. Just not available. Works for a contractor.”
“You never, really ‘had’ a muth’r then?”
“Nope. Was private.”
“So, that makes you immaculate?”
“Immaculate? Well, I showered this morning and these are clean shorts and tee. Doesn’t make me immaculate!”
“Your birth, it must have been immaculate?”
“What’s with immaculate birth? The stuff I’ve done it’s a miracle I’m still living!”
“OK”, Jorge asked, “what do you think you need this new, good, muth’r for?”
“I’ve got wrinkles in the stairwell.”
“Wrinkles in the stairwell?”
“Wrinkles in the stairwell!”
“You need a new muth’r because you’ve got what wrinkles in the stairwell?”
“When the sun comes through the transom over the front door in the afternoon it shines on the wall down the open stairwell. At a certain angle it shows wrinkles.”
“The sun shows wrinkles on the wall of the stairwell in the afternoon?”
“Yup!”
“What does that have to do with you need a good muth’r instead of the one you were born with?”
“I wasn’t born with my mudder. I told you’s with a private guy, and at least 30 years younger than me.”
“Wait a minute!”, says Jorge. “This muth’r isn’t your mother?”
“No! My mother is dead. I want a good mudder to fix the wrinkles in the drywall in the stairwell.”
“Ohhhhh!”, says Jorge with sudden inspiration. “You need a person, maybe a guy, to spread drywall compound on the wall, smooth it out so there are no wrinkles, no dimples and no pop-ups!”
“Absolutely!” I reply, “Like I said, guy or gal, I’m lookin’ for a good mudder.”
“Yah,” agreed Jorge, “gettin’ a good mudder’s murder!”
NOTE: Characters in this Bacon Scrapins tale are fictional.
You may send appropriate email comments to the writer at thisiswilmot@gmail.com