Call it Redneck, or Cajun, or whatever. The basket made me laugh out loud. I want one.
Don't blame me. Blame Doug.
Update From the comments at Facebook:
XXXXX says you'd have to make sure you didn't overwater "lest your cup runneth over"!
Of course, I asked XXXXX to leave the stage.
Very good!!
ReplyDeleteChoice, isn't it, Ciss?
ReplyDeleteGrandmere's should always get what they want.
ReplyDeleteGrandpère thought the basket was hilarious and asked me if I would embarrassed if he hung one. I said not at all.
ReplyDeleteI like it!
ReplyDeleteGrandpere is wise far beyond his age.
ReplyDeleteImagine! Grandpère wants one of my bras to make his hanging basket. I'll think about it. Mine won't be a color match with the petunias.
ReplyDeleteThe question is: Would it be so funny to him if it were a jock strap with lilies periwinckles growing out of it?
ReplyDeleteMuthah, I assure you that both Grandpère and I would be horrified at the thought of a jock-strap hanging basket.
ReplyDeleteI'll just leave quietly before I type something and Mimi asks me to leave the stage.
ReplyDeleteOh do it, Paul. I dare you.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you'd want to dye them, but a jock strap and a bra on matching hangers. You could hang them somewhere in your yard where no one would see them unless invited.
ReplyDeleteLeave the stage??
Leave the stage??
ReplyDeletesuzanne, I'm afraid so. :-)
Oh.....O...kay...
ReplyDeleteAt least you didn't ask for the hook..
suzanne, I'm relieved that it didn't come to the hook, the ultimate in humiliation - for your sake, of course.
ReplyDeleteNope. Not gonna fall for that.
ReplyDeleteChicken! :-)
ReplyDelete