Curses!

Mom has a large potluck at her house every year, one that involves hundreds of people (usually older folk), motorhomes, port-a-potties and the occasional banjo or fiddle, if we're lucky (and when I say lucky, I mean, awwww yeah!!). This year the potluck was considered a success, until about two weeks later when I got a phone call from my very distressed mother.

Mom: The chest freezer must have gotten unplugged when we were unplugging Bill's RV, the water cooler and whatever else!!!

Me: That's not good. (At this moment, I actually remembered unplugging one of the many extension cords, but I stayed silent. Very silent.)

Mom: * angrily and accusingly * Now I have to throw everything away. INCLUDING MY WEASELS!! AND MY ELK HEAD!

Me: Mom, I didn't know you had more than one weasel. Are you talking about weasels, plural, and not the one in the house freezer? Because when I was at your place last, I saw him there propped up against a bag of broccoli and he was still frozen solid.

Mom: Well yes, remember that one I found on the side of the road and brought home for you to see?

Me: Oh yes. Now I remember, with the blood dripping out of its still warm body?

Mom: Will, that one too. (She chronically misspells the word "well." I can hear the misspelling when she speaks.)

Me: !

Mom: Anyway, now I'm upset! Because I have to throw out the weasels, elk head, my pheasant, the rabbit furs....all of it is gone!! I AM SO UPSET!!! When are you going to come over and help me clean it out?

Me: As much as the idea of helping you throw out rotting animal carcases appeals to me, I'm just not sure if I'll be able to come over this weekend.

Mom: Sigh! MY WEASELS!!


Stay tuned for "Part II: Silence of the Lambs Mysterious Animal Parts"