I don’t know what it is about women, but it they gotta have two of everything – a “good one” and an everyday one that you’re allowed to actually use. Remember that time I cut the end of my finger off with the table saw? God help me, I grabbed the two “good towels” Minnie hangs in the bathroom for no reason because we’re not allowed to touch them.
Now, imagine if men did that. Imagine you walk into my baby barn and on the wall I got a nice, clean, sparkly screwdriver set, still in the case, all on display. And a fancy handsaw with a carved wooden handle and a shiny blade you could see yourself in. Imagine havin’ that and sayin’ to somebody – Now if you need a screwdriver or a saw, there’s a rusty old butter knife in the junk drawer.
Which brings me to Minnie’s blue ceramic teapot. Now, it’s called a teapot, but don’t confuse it with the glass thing you put on the stove that whistles when the tea is ready and – get this – actually makes tea. No, this would be her “good teapot,” which is the blue ceramic thing that she puts for a decoration on the window ledge in the kitchen. Some aunt or cousin or somebody gave it to her years and years ago for a birthday or Christmas or somethin’, and somewhere along the line – I got no idea when – it became her “good teapot” which meant nobody was ever allowed to use it for anything, especially tea.
Of course, you know me. I started keepin’ keys in it when she wasn’t lookin’. I got a spare key for the back door, spare key for the truck, a key for the padlock on the baby barn. I got an extra key for Cyril’s truck, a key for an old snowblower we hauled to the dump a couple of years ago, and a key I found in the parkin’ lot at the liquor store one day that I just liked the shape of. And I figured that teapot would be a good place to keep ‘em all.
Anyways, I reached in one morning to get the baby barn key and I knocked the damn teapot off the window ledge. It hit the floor and the noise it made was crazy because all the keys rattled all over the place.
Minnie came to see what happened and she saw me holdin’ the teapot in four pieces. The lid was cracked in two and the handle came off.
Keys?? She was yellin’ at me. What in the hell are you doin’ keepin’ a bunch of keys in my good teapot??
I gotta keep them somewheres! I said, tryin’ to defend myself. I’m not made of key rings, ya know!
Anyways, I could see I was in the wrong even if it was a dumb old teapot so I made a big mistake and promised to fix it.
Now, when Minnie hears the word “promise” it’s like it’s a secret password that triggers some part of her brain that makes her never forget. She mentioned it twice in the first week, every day in the second week, and then she did that thing where she stops mentionin’ what needs to be fixed, and starts talkin’ to the thing itself.
Awww, she said one day to the teapot, in pieces on the kitchen counter. You’re still all broke, aren’t ya? Billy promised he was gonna fix ya but he didn’t, the lyin’ rotten bast –
Are you batty or what? I interrupted her. Talkin’ to the teapot?
Don’t make all these promises that you’re gonna fix teapots if you’re not gonna do it, Billy! she yelled.
The next day she got up early to go help Joan with somethin’ and left a note and a $10-bill on the table. “This is to get Crazy Glue so you can finally fix the teapot.”
So, needless to say, I didn’t buy Crazy Glue. I went to the dollar store instead, got “Super Duper Glue” or some damn thing for a buck, and put the other nine bucks toward my beer for the night.
I got it home and spent a good ten minutes tryin’ to get the cap off. It’s a little tube, but it comes in a case that’s sorta like a big pill bottle. So I get it out of the bottle, and then the way the tube works is, you unscrew the cap, turn it around, and shove the pointy thing into the tip of the tube so the glue can come out. So I did that, but the pointy thing wasn’t that pointy, I guess, and it didn’t make much of a hole.
I figured I just had to squeeze the tube a little harder. So I squeezed ol’ hell out of it and *POP* a big gob of glue squirts out of the tube and all over my fingers. I could feel it start to tingle right away, so I figured I had to move fast. I smeared my fingers all over the edges of the broken pieces and tried to put the teapot back together. I held it steady with one hand and pressed the pieces back on with the other.
Well, ya can see where this is goin’. My whole right hand was stuck right to the side of the teapot. And for some reason, I figured, if I put more glue on, that’ll reactivate the glue that started to harden. But no, turns out that just sticks ya better.
Minnie got me unstuck with some canola oil, but she was wild at me because I accidentally glued the lid onto the teapot.
The teapot is ruined! she yelled at me.
Not only that, I said. I gotta find a new place for all my keys.