Annie is full speed into the Walking Dead series again.    She is really into being Negan.    She begged and begged us for a bat like ‘Lucille’.   I said absolutely not because I know I would get hit with it several times a day.    She had a literal meltdown when I refused her request.

She flipped out in the kitchen and tipped the cat litter box upside down, then she knocked over the garbage can, she put an entire can of unopened lima beans in the microwave and turned it on and then chased me around the table with the hand mixer running and she kept shoving it at me and pressing the booster button.    I refused to give in.

A couple days later, I returned home from work to find Annie replaced my new bed with a water bed but she didn’t fill it with water.   She said she was going to use poop but since poop was her fortune I was not worth it and she filled it with vomit instead.    Oh and she got me new pillows, made of pelican feathers and the whole house smelt like dead rotted fish.   There is also a bald pelican named, “Humphrey” running around begging for fish and a swimming pool.   I refused to give in.

The final straw was when Annie ate those lima beans she put in the microwave and she got the worst farts anyone ever had.    Every time she farted she would laugh her crazy laugh and say, “Sorry Slam.”   Then she would start spraying her air freshener, from her ‘fart’ collection, which of course made it worse.   So between that, the dead fish smell, and the vomit smell from the bed, I started getting sick.   I started running for the bathroom and Annie screams, “The bed isn’t firm enough do it on the bed,” and then she squirts me in the face, “cow manure fart” scented air freshener.    I start throwing up and Annie, is behind me screaming into a megaphone, “Get it up, get it way up!” and she blasts an air horn.

I gave in…but only half way.   I told her she could have a “Lucille” bat on two conditions.   One it had to be a plastic bat not a heavy wooden one and she could not hit anyone with it.   Annie agree but with the condition she could not hit anyone but, “Walkers” with it.   I mean really there are no walkers so what was the harm.   She named her bat, “Lucy.”

Annie loves ‘I love Lucy”.    I always have to be Ethel because Annie says, I am older and fatter.    It made sense for her to name her bat “Lucy”.

Last night, we had to go get groceries.   Annie was up for a supply run, especially since she now had Lucy.   I did not want her to go.    She begged and begged.  I agreed if she left Lucy home.   Annie quickly decided she didn’t want to go and mentioned casually that she missed the vomit bed and that Humphrey had a twin sister named Hazel who had a fine ‘mane’ of fish fouled feathers.   I had to agree to let her go; with the bat.

We get to the store.   Annie nicely agrees to sit in the car.   I tried to get her to leave the bat in the car, but of course she said no.   I suppose I would have been less worried if we had not agree to let her cover it in barbed wire.   I mean I knew she couldn’t kill anyone with it but she could hurt someone.    However, she had promised not to hit anyone but walkers.

I knew I was in trouble when Annie started whispering, “Walkers Dick.”  I calmly told her, “No, Annie there are no walkers.”  She replies, “I am Negan.”  And with that she takes her bat and whacks this old lady, who was bending over inspecting a can of pickled herring.    As Lucy connects with this old lady’s rear end, Annie screams, “Walkers!”, into her megaphone which I had no idea she even brought in.   Then she starts honking her air horn.

Quietly, I am trying to shush Annie and apologize to the old lady.   I am so embarrassed that I could crawl into a hole.  I mean everyone is looking at me, because Annie is yelling and honking her horn.   And this old lady is screaming,  jumping around and grabbing her sore butt.  “I am so sorry,” I say.   “Is there anything I can do?”  Then I turn to Annie and say, “I told you not to hit anyone.”  Annie looks at me and says, “She is so darn old and musty looking, I thought she really WAS a walker.”   I yell in exasperation, “Annie what a horrible thing to say!”

The next thing I know the old lady is whacking me over my head with her purse and her umbrella.    She throws the can of pickled herring at me, and it breaks covering me with a stinky mess.    I am trying to cover my face because she is trying to stab me in the eyes with her umbrella and I swear her purse was full of rocks.   Annie is yelling into the megaphone, “Get her old lady, get her!”

The old lady stops and screams at me, “Your cat was trying to save you from Walkers.   How dare you yell at her.   You don’t deserve a cat, DICK!”  Everyone in the store starts clapping.    I am never taking Annie shopping again.




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