Listening to: What You Need
Thought for the day: I don’t care if you never win a race, you’ll always be my horse.
I could probably write a book about Tom. If you’ve been reading my daily entries, you know him. If you haven’t, he’s my salty curmudgeon-esque neighbor who is larger than life and has a voice that will travel 10 miles down the road. Life is not boring with him in my life.
Recently, while I was sitting on my porch, I saw Tom’s sister pull into his driveway. Tom lumbered out of the car and his sister followed. They were laughing a lot as she helped him into his house. Then she left. About five minutes later Tom came back outside, slammed his front door, and was stumbling all over the place. I immediately thought he was having a heart attack. I dropped what I was doing and ran over to his house. Here is what happened.
Me: Tom? Are you okay?
Tom: Child……… No……. I just locked my @##($*)(*%)(* keys in the house.
Like a weary Jolly Green Giant, he then plopped his large frame down into a nearby chair and started laughing (today’ photo).
Tom: I’ve been down to the Magaritavilles (Margaritaville) and Toots. Child. I’ve seen it on the TV, but I had no idea downtown Nashville was so much fun. I ain’t been down there in 20 years. My sister bought me this hat at Magaritavilles, but I’ve locked my #)($*)(*%)( keys in the house.
Me: Are you drunk?
Tom: OF COURSE I AM DRUNK! Hee hee hee. I only had 1………2……….let’s see………3……….Oh hell. Will you just break into my house and get my #$(*&%(*& keys?
He then instructed me on how to break into his house to get his keys. Operation “Retrieve Drunk Tom’s Keys” was a success. I handed him the keys.
Tom: Thanks hon.
Me: Were you going to get in your truck and go somewhere? I think you need to stay put.
Tom: I think you’re right. Hey. I don’t care if you never win a race, you’ll always be my horse.
Former Tom Blogs: