Sheldon

I have a friend and former coworker named Sheldon.  He reminds me of my grandmother's old boyfriend, Ed (how many people can say THAT!) mostly because they look the same.  He also reminds me a lot of my dad.  That's for the often predictable yet rarely anticipated sarcasm.  I'd say that Sheldon is interesting, but that's just not doing him justice.  Working with Sheldon was NEVER dull.  He'd say things that would have you doubled over laughing in one breath and things that would make you wonder how he's not yet been fired in the next.

Once we became Facebook friends, the real fun started.

It was a lovely day so I post about the weather.
Me:  Sitting outside enjoying the mid 70's.
Sheldon:  I didn't know you were in your 70's.

I'm eating my daily hard boiled eggs and am having trouble peeling them.
Me:  I hate it when my eggs don't peel.
Sheldon:  I didn't know you were ovulating.

Our dog chewed on EVERYTHING so I post.
Me:  Why does my dog eat sticks?
Sheldon:  It helps them bark!

Then I got pre-emptive:

When driving through several states on our way to Montana, I post at every state line.
Me:  Idaho!  Sheldon--don't say what I KNOW you're thinking.
Sheldon:  Hehehehe.

These are just a few examples of how he lights up my Facebook page.  Now that we don't work int he same office, it's the only way we connect.  And I can honestly say that there are things I almost posted but then deleted in anticipation of what he might say.  It could be that I'm giving him too much credit in those unmade remarks.  But I really don't think so.  Yet every time he posts or doesn't post, I find myself laughing. And if he ever stopped commenting on my post in such a fashion, I'd be worried that he was somehow angry with me. Inappropriate?  Sure.  Rude?  Sometimes.  Funny?  ABSOLUTELY!  I hope he never changes...and I wonder what comments he might post about this.

Comments

Tiggerr said…
Sounds like a wonderful friend!
9:54 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Easter

It’s Holy Week.  I remember being confused by so many pieces of Easter when I was young.  Why was it called Good Friday if Jesus died?  Wasn’t that BAD Friday?  Why did we eat so much fish?  Ick.  Why did it always seem to be a gloomy, rainy, week?  Did God do that on purpose?  How could Jesus ride into the city of Jerusalem with such fanfare on Sunday and be beaten so brutally just 6 days later?  As I’ve grown in my faith and age, I understand so much more.  When Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ played in theaters, I went to see it.  My sobs could hardly be heard over the sobs of others.  This wasn’t a movie where you munched on popcorn and sipped a soft drink.  This was a chore—a duty as a Christian to come face to face with the brutality endured by our Savior.  To come to terms with what He experienced so that I could, what?  Show up late to work with no excuse?  Watch movies with foul language?  Tell the occasional lie and not suffer the consequences?  Was it worth it?  What jus
Read more

Shoes=Outside

Image
When Nick comes inside from anywhere, he takes off his socks and shoes. He just likes to be barefoot inside. He also doesn't like shoes on the couch or beds, so when Ivy's inside, most of the time, her shoes and socks come off too. Naturally, this necessitates putting shoes on when we've been home and then decide to go somewhere. Ivy seems to understand this. She LOVES to be outside. She's tall enough to reach the door knob, so it's locked all the time now. She'll go up to the door, try to turn the handle and say "side" when she wants to go outside (which is all the time). When she sees one of us putting our shoes on, she naturally goes to the door and says "side". Yesterday, Nick took Ivy out to the pool for a while before I got home from work. They put their feet in the pool and splashed a bit, but no real swimming (water is still cold). When I got home, they were back inside, shoes off. Ivy wasn't quite done being outside for the day.
Read more

The Wonderful World of Meat Substitutes

I didn’t become a vegetarian until a little over two years ago. I used to think it would be absolutely impossible for me to do—I’m in love with chicken! Can’t give that up. No way. Well, clearly, I did give it up (although so many non-vegetarians say things to me like “you eat chicken, right? Chicken’s a vegetable.” Um, no.). I often encounter someone that is unaware of my food lifestyle and after the initial shock wears off, they want to know if I miss meat. The answer is a resounding no. I hardly notice it at all. I won’t go into why I don’t eat meat (not now anyway). There are different types of vegetarians. I am what is known as a lacto-ovo vegetarian—I eat eggs and diary but nothing that used to crawl, swim, walk or fly. No chicken, no cow, no pig, no lamb, no fish. (Nick and I went to a restaurant today that basically wanted to know how you want your beef cooked, but did include two of what they called “Meatless sandwiches”. They included fried fish and baked fish.
Read more